Rooted Out

As noted last week, in my body's ongoing and ugly quest to remind me that I am middle-aged and getting older, I had a tooth fall out as easily as the leaves raining down from the trees here in Connecticutistan. This led to an emergency visit to the dentist which then brought me to today's dental delight, a root canal.

I've intentionally insulated myself from the horrible intricacies of dental procedures. This was not an easy task being married to a very talented and gung-ho dental assistant. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML knows from teeth and procedures. I quickly learned that her 'talking shop' at the end of the day grossed me out. I could not handle hearing about the procedures. Loved her enthusiasm, just couldn't handle the details.

Over the weekend, in dreaded anticipation, I did, begrudgingly, ask her to break down what I was in for  in terms of this procedure. She started to break it down, like my tooth, for me. When she got to talking about the need to fill the wreckage of my tooth with paper, I was done. The less I knew the better at this point.

The name of the procedure, 'root canal,' infers a lot of digging about and unpleasantness. There's a lot about the process to dislike but writing this some six hours later, it wasn't as bad as I thought. No massive bleeding or gore. A lot of Novacaine made it easier, a lot easier. I will say this though, a lot of what they say to you about what they're doing during the procedure could be seriously misconstrued if taken out of context. 

Now, I'm left with a splitting headache and the specter of more dental work in a few weeks. Oh, and the admonition to avoid 'crunchy' foods. And here I was so looking forward to downing a box of Grape Nuts tonight!