Uh Oh

You know what's a scary phrase? "Root canal". I'm having one on Monday.

Naturally, I'm nervous. Mostly, I blame the name, which I'm surprised they've never changed. It seems like once your procedure is synonymous with "excruciating pain" in people's minds, you should try rebranding it. For instance, have you noticed how prunes are now called "dried plums", since it was determined that "prune" has a bad connotation in the mind of the consumer? So how come root canals aren't called "The HappyTeeth Procedure" or something?

Actually, some dentists appear to be calling them "Endodontic Surgery", but that's not obscure enough. Plus, it uses the word "surgery" which still frightens people. I asked for more details on the theory that knowledge is a good thing, and it turns out that a root canal involves drilling a hole in the top of the tooth, sucking out the pulp, nerve, and generally everything inside the tooth, and filling it up with a "filling material". And then putting on a crown.

That doesn't sound great, but I'm assured (by my dentist, who has a vested interest in lying to me) that it's almost totally painless. Anesthetic has improved enormously since the days of the old west, so dentistry isn't the agonizing experience it used to be. Plus, after it, I shouldn't feel anything because the nerve that would be feeling the pain will have been, um, sucked out of my head by a small powerful vaccuum inserted into my tooth. You'll pardon me if I don't find that 100% reassuring.

I used to be really good at going to the dentist. Not in the sense of actually going, but in the sense of not freaking out over it. I'd even listen to the Dentist song from Little Shop of Horrors right before going. But sometime in the last couple of years, I developed some kind of tooth . . . thing. I don't like the idea of losing my teeth. I don't like the idea of my teeth getting chipped. It's gotten to the point where I cringe when I watch a cartoon where a character loses all their teeth or the teeth turn into piano keys or something. That scene in the season finale of Oz where Robson cut open his own gums with a shiv? Yeah, I couldn't even look at that. Urgh.

But at least I'm not losing a tooth here. And I'm still pretty good at sitting still while I get stuff injected into my jaw. So I think I'll be okay. My dentist lets the patient listen to headphones while he works, so I'll hopefully hear nothing but my own mix cd for the two or three hours (sigh) I'll be in there. I'll be numb, so I won't hear anything, and you can believe that I'll have my eyes closed so I won't see anything. That's three of the four senses, so as long as I can ignore the smell and taste of smoke, I'll be okay. I think. There's also the issue of wondering what goofy device they'll use to keep my mouth open, but that's a whole different thing.

Anyway, right now, I'm looking forward to my appointment. It's at 8am on Monday, so I've got three more days of toothache ahead of me. Oh, did I mention my toothache? It doesn't hurt a lot, but it hurts pretty much constantly. And I can't really chew on the right side of my mouth. So I have a feeling that this weekend (during which I'll be working on European time, so about 3am-3pm on Saturday and Sunday) isn't going to be terribly pleasant.

But I guess people say you should face your fears. And getting a root canal, while it sounds like something only grown-ups get, is probably going to be good for me. So I shall try to be brave. I don't know if I'll have the strength of will to put "Dentist" on the mix cd, though. There's a limit to how much fear-facing I'm prepared to do.