Two weeks ago I had a root canal. It was my second one since 2000, and it was pretty much a quick, routine deal. A tooth that I knew was broken suddenly started rousing me from sleep about once a week. My awesome dentist patched it up quite nice in less than two hours. I squeezed in the procedure between a lease signing and a showing.
This past Tuesday afternoon a front tooth of mine, which had never given me an ounce of trouble, flared up in what was nothing less than weapons grade pain. I couldn't eat, sleep or do much of anything. I outwardly sobbed. Wednesday morning, I was back in the dentist's office, and the staff was confused as to why I was there...again. What kind of a person gets two root canals in less than two weeks?
I'm back to normal now, although the front of my face is oddly swollen and I slightly resemble Rocky from that movie, Mask. I'm rather dopey, though, from all the Novocaine. It occurred me that this must be what it feels like to be dim, with no interest in anything around me, except cartoons.
In light of my recent adventures in endodontistry, I give you this video. In this economy, smart woman date not for money, but for health insurance.
