|
|
|
|
|
 |
||||||||||||
|
Welcome to Holidailies, where certain members of the journal community make a pledge to update our journals on a daily basis as a special Christmas gift to you, our loyal readers. Lisa thinks my readers may be getting tired of hearing about my dental woes. I certainly don't think that's so. I mean, if it was, I would have heard from you guys by now, right? Right? Anyway. Wednesday afternoon was spent in the dentist chair, as Dr. Bell ground my second molar and second bicuspid down into posts to which to attach a shiny new bridge in my mouth next week. Two hours of grinding, poking, prodding and padding. I can't count the number of times he said with frustration, "I'm losing the battle with your tongue!" Apparently I have the strongest tongue he's ever seen, and when my mouth is frozen, I don't have a clue where it's sitting. So while I thought I was holding it flat, my tongue was actually roving around my mouth, puffing up like a scared cat, poking at the instruments, and wiping saliva on his little mirror. He eventually just handed me a mirror so I could see the action for myself, and I could keep sending different nerve impulses to see which one resulted in it lying down. So now I wait a week for the cast to come back from the lab, and get my shiny new gold bridge. The first two teeth will be porcelain covered, yes, but for strength, the back one will be solid gold, baby. I'll have a gold tooth! Back where no one will see it unless I want them too! I have to say, my current dentist is still the most gentle, pain-free dentist I have ever visited. My track record isn't good, of course, with such personalities as the Children's Dentist of Doom (who had a 'screaming room' where he'd take the kids with the most painful work - we in the chairs could hear them, but the parents in the lobby couldn't), Dr. Numbmouth (who managed to pull a one-in-a-million trick and freeze my tongue solid for six months) and, of course, Mr. Pointy (the dental surgeon who felt that freezing solution is best injected using dull needles jammed all the way through to the back of your skull). I have never felt pain in Dr. Bell's chair. The moment I get a twinge, he backs off, checks to see if I'm okay, and gives more freezing to ensure a pain-free experience. There is nothing that can get rid of the vibrations of the drill, of course, which shakes you down to your toenails, and sometimes the ache will last for days, but he's still the best of the lot. In Ancient Times...
|
|
||||||||||||
