Woooo! Post number 100! Weeeeeeeeeeeeee...Man it took me a long time to get here. Woo.
I hate the dentist. Hate hate hate. I hate the smell of the office (they all smell the effing same, don't even try to tell me that they don't), I hate the chairs, I hate being able to see all the sharp things, and I hate that light they shine in your eyes. Despite all this, on Friday I went in to get the root canal. And it wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting it to be. There was very little pain, but I did make the mistake of looking at things going into my mouth. Never a good idea. I swear they were sticking tiny swords and knives in there. And just mushing them about since I was completely numb on the right side of my face. I had NO idea what was going on. But I did overhear my dentist asking a nurse for "a couple of size eight slow speed shanks," which he received and then jammed into my mouth.
Ladies and gentlemen, I've been shanked. Amazing.
The dental hygienist HATED me. I have a really small mouth (big lips, small mouth...it happens) and had to get x-rayed three times over the course of my appointment. The contraption that holds the thing to go over your tooth to take the picture (I know it's got a name, but I can't think of it for a life of me) was too big to fit in my mouth, so I had to use my index finger to hold it in place instead. Only this tooth was way WAY back there and things like my tongue kept getting in the way and the dental hygienist kept rolling her eyes and jamming my own finger further and further into my mouth. Fun!
Oh! And also? They fitted this weird splatter guard around my tooth that attached to a wire frame that kept my mouth open. They attached it to my tooth with a horrible looking pair of pliers and what felt like a screw. Blech. Also also? At one point something he was using on the tooth started SMOKING, so there was a lovely burning smell and black smoke coming out of my mouth. That was fun. Also also also? Dude used a modified soldering iron on my tooth. Or perhaps a hot glue gun. "You may feel a bit of heat." Of course I will! You just stuck an effing SOLDERING IRON into my mouth.
Seth picked me up from the dentist because he knew how freaked out I was going in there (Seriously? He's now going to have to wrestle with Mark for the prize of best ex-boyfriend ever), and we walked all the way from midtown to the financial district which was nice, and calming, and gave me time to regain feeling in my jaw before heading back to the office. (When I got out of the procedure my face was so numb that I could barely talk. I sounded like I had marbles in my mouth. And I was drooling. I was really cute.)
Oh, and I figured out the new catch phrase: "Holy Crap". I am eight years old again. Awesome!
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