Call Me a Wimp

Go ahead, you can do it - call me a Wimp. I can take it, or truth be told, I just don't have it in me at the moment to fight back.

The following should only be read by those not faint of heart....

So, I just had that infamous little cracked tooth removed, you know, the one that ever so graciously cracked off well below the gumline - yep, that's the one. So, two really good things happened:

Number one is that it was so difficult for my dentist to remove the cracked portion (read that as my mouth and jawline were aching, aching, aching when he was done) that I asked the periodontist to wait a week before removing the entire rest of the tooth. Number two is that I felt bad that I was only going to see the periodonist for a single visit, when he had gone to the trouble to get me in as an emergency the first time, that I decided that I would have him (remember - he's a surgeon) and not my dentist take out my tooth. Both of these turned out to be GREAT things.

Besides the fact that the Lidocaine required two additional shots to numb my mouth, which we found out when the Dr. started drilling away to intentionally crack the remaining tooth and I started flying out of the chair. So okay, that was pretty bad, but here was the really, really bad, but sort of good too, thing that happened: the jawbone stubbornly refused to let go of the roots (translation - it took twice as long, required cuts in the gumline, and true pushing/pulling on the tooth to get the bone to give it up!) However, I can now say with complete confidence that I have fantastic bone; I even have a Dr. willing to attest to it. He is left to wonder if it's the goat's milk/cheese!?!

I'm off to go imbibe on pain meds....