We Really Butchered Ya

I suspect that sentence would be pretty high on the list of things you never want to hear your dentist say. I had to go in yesterday afternoon to repair a cracked tooth. I hadn't noticed anything, but during my regular 6-month appointment two weeks before, a new X-ray showed that a tooth in the back of my mouth had developed a small crack. What my dentist had to do was remove the filling, check inside the hole to make sure no decay had set in, repair the tooth, and add a new filling. Unfortunately, he slipped and nicked a nerve, causing quite a bit of bleeding to occur.

Thankfully, the (second) shot had numbed me and I was unable to feel any pain, but it's pretty stressful to lie there while two pairs of hands scramble to stop a blood flow inside your mouth. The drilling is bad enough--for me anyway, as I lie there waiting for the drill to hit a secret pocket of nerves that hasn't yet been affected by the novocaine (is that what dentists still use?).

When the shots finally wore off about five hours later (or 4 1/2 hours after I was told they would), I didn't feel any pain in the tooth. My dentist, whom I have to admit was concerned, so concerned that he called me last night to check up on me. I told him that the tooth seemed fine, but I felt a little sore up there, likely from all the prodding and poking. "Yeah, we really butchered you," was his response.

Only 5 1/2 months 'til my next checkup. Ai-yi-yi.