Wednesday, November 8, 2017

The Root Canal of All Evil

Today I am writing to you full of heart and numb of face. I just got home from the dentist where I had not 1, not 2, but 3 cavities filled. Some people always get As. Others always get in the fastest checkout line. I always get cavities. It's a medical mystery. I brush at least 3 times a day. Floss at least 2 times a day. Drink less than 1 soda a day. I'm sure my dentist thinks I'm not telling the truth about any of that but it's my therapist* I lie to, with my dentist I'm an open book.

In any event, I had to get the cavities filled sooner rather than later because before you know it I will be 26 and off my father's insurance forever. So I found myself sitting in a dentist chair instead of a  pedicure chair. Why do bad things happen to average at best people?


Luckily, my aunt is a nurse so I regularly rely on her for medical advice.

Dental problems have plagued my family for almost as long as acerbic wit, dry humor and dashing good looks. My mother has nightmares where her teeth fall out. Growing up I remember hearing horror stories about the dentist from my Aunt Julia. And since we're basically twins, of course I inherited the cuspid curse.

  
Sisters in Christ. And dental dilemmas.

And Halloween costumes.

I had the pleasure of my first root canal during my sophomore year of college. The root canal combined with some last minute class changes meant that for the first 2 weeks of spring semester I had been to like 1 actual meeting. That made for some interesting exam 1 scores.

Before the procedure my pain wasn't bad at all so I was expecting the procedure to be similar to a filling. The shots would hurt. I would be sore for a few hours after. And then I would go on my merry way. Boy was I wrong.


The root canal itself wasn't too bad. At least not compared to the laundry list of minor aches that I regularly compare to medieval torture methods. You know. Stubbed toes. Hangnails. Paper cuts. But once the numbing agents wore off the pain kind of rushed in like scorned women at a Miranda Lambert concert. At this point in my culinary career the only frozen food option I had to ice my poor aching face was blackberries.


The next morning I was still in a lot of pain but I assumed that my suffering was purely internal. Until I went to the suite bathroom that I shared with 7 other coeds and my friend Hannah greeted me with "oh my gosh your face" which, for the record, is NOT what girls want to hear.


In this picture you can see how the swelling has not gone down. And I know that this picture was taken at least 3 hours later because you can tell my hair is completely dry. I know what you're thinking. Give it time! Surely it got better soon after this?


It didn't. I went to class like this. Open apology to everyone who took POLI 208: The U.S. Supreme Court with Professor I. Forget in the spring of 2013. The good news is that I noticed a change soon after this picture was taken.


The change was that the swelling moved from my cheek to my eye.

I call this picture Finally Back to Nornal? Wait...was I this ugly before? I don’t think so but it’s entirely possible. Friends confirmed I was still swollen here, thank goodness. 

My next root canal experience was much better. The pain leading up to the procedure was terrible. But I was placed on a healthy regimen of pain killers. Gotta stay ahead of the pain, that's what I always say.

My friend Taylor dropped me off at the endodontist because my situation required a specialist. During the procedure the dentist got me a blanket and a pillow and afterwards she prescribed me a criminally negligent amount of Vicodin. But the real fun happened when I had to make my way home fresh off dental surgery in a part of campus where I didn’t know the bus routes. I mainly remember walking past Walgreens a lot but eventually thanks to a group chat I got some helpful information and made it to my bed.


I did need to keep an ice pack on my mouth for the better part of the next 24 hours. I learned this the hard way when I decided it was a good idea to go to the mall 2 hours post-op. In my defense, candles were on sale at Bath & Body Works. In this picture it looks like my lips are swollen but they take up 50% of my face on any given day.

 
But as you can see from this picture, I recovered just fine. There's that smile my parents paid thousands of dollars in braces for!


*Just kidding, please don't lie to your therapist, bad idea.

No comments:

Post a Comment