You've GOT to be kidding me

Warning: This post is purely to complain and to document the drawn-out and painful saga that will be hereafter known as "My First Root Canal." (Don't worry: it's about me, not one of the kids.) Please feel free to bypass at your leisure - I won't be offended.


Our story begins way back in February at a routine check-up with my dentist, Dr. M...

1. February 18. Dr. M discovers need for a filling in tooth #2. Ah well, that sucks. Gotta come back in.


2. March 11. Back for filling. There you go. #2 is good as new. See you at your next 6-month appt.


3. I'm having some pain; is that normal? Come on in and we'll have a look. March 31. Checked, found nothing. Maybe just wait on it a while.


4. Pain, pain, pain. Come back in. April 28. We think #2 might be cracked; we'll send you to another specialist to be sure.


5. April 30. Second opinion with Dr. P. Hmm, Dr. P, you look rather along in years to still be practicing dentistry. The hygienist has to echo everything I say in a loud shout over me toward the double hearing aids. Yep, it's cracked, we'll have to do a root canal. Say what? As in, "I'd rather have a root canal than (fill-in-the-blank)?" Gulp.


6. May 5. Root canal with Dr. P, oldest endodontist in the free world. (I'm sure they grow them older in China or somewhere.) Listening to my ipod drowns out most of the torturous noises...thanks for the good tip, husband Drew (and proud owner of most annoyingly perfect set of teeth ever). Afterward, I purchase box of Sugar Babies in act of good faith.


7. May 19. Follow-up appt with Dr. P looks good. We're happy with what we see here. Now you can go back to your own dentist to get your crown put on.


8. May 27. Back at Dr. M's, we have a choice about crowns: porcelain or gold. I recommend gold - it's more durable. No, you won't look like a pirate; it'll be way back there in your mouth. He goes about his business with a sharp tool on #2 when suddenly...AHHH! Excruciating pain in a place where there should not be pain. Uh, maybe the other guy didn't get it all; go back and see him. Gre-at.


9. May 28. Back in to see if Dr. P missed anything. Nope, it looks good to me. I got it all. I am infallible. Go tell your dentist he must have slipped and hit your gum or something. Package of Sugar Babies remains untouched.
   
10. June 1. Hello again, original dentist. Dr. P says to tell you bite me; he can't find anything. Our apologies, this almost never happens... We're going to go ahead and send you to a third dentist to break the tie on 'he said vs. he said.' Deep breath. Have now been unable to chew on the right side of my mouth for nearly three months.


11. June 2. Oh, and would you mind ever so much driving back out to us this afternoon to pick up your paperwork and films to bring to your third opinion? Sure, why not, any other deliveries I can make for you? Have you people ever heard of a courier?


12. June 3. Much younger new guy Dr. B takes a brief gander. Oh, Dr. P? Yeah, he's some sort of living legend...innovated a lot of the endodontic methods we still practice today! But stranger things have happened; let's set up some time to get in and take a closer look at that naughty #2.


13. June 10. Back in Dr. B's chair for a real in-depth look at things. Yep, Dr. P missed an entire canal. There were three, not two. Only the second time I've ever seen that happen. Now I'll redo the entire thing. What's that? Yes, you can wear your ipod...


14. June 16. Now that the miscanal has been restored, it's back to Dr. M for initial fitting of that crown and lots of drill, drill, drilling that infamous #2 away. Temporary cap put on. No jump-out-of-the-chair pain this time...that must be a good sign, right? Dr. P's office calls: they will not be charging us for any of the work they did on me. Noooo, I wouldn't think so.


15. June 23. Final fitting of my gold crown. It's in; looks good and pirate-y. All's well that ends well - it only took a dozen appointments.


16. August 19. My next 6-month appt on the calendar. That won't come quickly or anything.

The lesson here, if one is to be had? Brush your teeth, children...and never let an octogenarian work on your mouth.