How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Dentist

I have been to the dentist more times in the last 8 weeks than in the last 8 years. These two things are not unrelated. We started with just a cleaning, moved to an appointment (and x-rays) with an oral surgeon for an impacted wisdom tooth (more on that later), and finished with two appointments for a root canal. Next up, extraction of the wisdom tooth (and a couple of others for good measure) this Monday. I also still need a permanent cap on the molar that received the root canal, plus a couple of other caps, but that won’t be for several months.

So, first, the root canal. This was less horrible than I expected. I didn’t have a lot of pain prior to the procedure (apparently this is worst part for most people). I just didn’t chew on that side of my mouth. The first round wasn’t too bad, and my dentist filled my gums with enough local anesthetic that I really couldn’t feel much (which led to much comedy when I attempted to rinse my mouth after the procedure). Round two was a bit more painful, as for some reason he didn’t give me much local. But, it was all good, and I was far less nervous than I thought I would be.

I am mildly worried about the extraction, if only because I picked a local anesthetic rather than being knocked out. The thought of someone putting a chisel in my mouth, or putting their foot on my head so they can YANK doesn’t really appeal to me. I suppose I can just go into my cave and find my power animal. The procedure only takes 30 minutes, so, really, how bad can it be?

I suspect that anything after this, short of having all of my teeth pulled, will be a walk in the park. And I may actually go to the dentist twice a year for a cleaning.

Maybe.