It's been almost ten years since I've been to a dentist. I was scheduled for a "possible" root canal today. But apparently I'm blessed with strong teeth.
No root canal for this chickie (not today) -- just preparation for a crown, which involved drilling off the old filling (fine by me, it was heavy metal). Three shots of novocain and still I was jumping in the seat.
"Uhh gock, rhy's i-hootig knee so nuck?" [translated, "Uhh doc, why's it hurting me so much?"]
"I don't know, you're just sensitive I guess. Ten more seconds."
Ten seconds. My count. I punched her. I swear, it was a reflex.
A few moments later, she was building the crown area (or whatever they do to torture those of us with small mouths).
"Stop moving your tongue."
I didn't know I was moving my tongue.
Um, I think you'll find my jaw somewhere in my lap.
"Stop pushing with your tongue. Breathe through your nose."
Let's see, I'm gagging on my tongue. Would you rather I breathe through my throat or throw up on you? It's your call.
90 minutes in the chair.
15 minutes of actual work on my mouth.
100 bucks down.
900 to go.
4 weeks of soft foods.
That adds up to one gigantic headache.
And I think...yep...the novocain is finally kicking in.
Oh yeah. I'll be changing dentists.