So ever since I had my cavities filled last week, I've noticed a lot of sensitivity in my lower left toothal* area. I assumed it was because I had a cavity filled in the molar at the very back of my mouth. But goddamn, it hurt all to hell every time I chewed or ate something cold. So I went back in to see my dentist, Dr. M, today, and he sprayed outrageously cold water into my mouth, in the lower left toothal area, making me cringe and moan (and not in a happy way) and discovered that the tooth in front of the tooth he just filled had a silver filling that was leaking. This filling has been in my mouth for about 500 years and it was my only filling ever until a week ago.
* Yes, I just made that word up. Toothal, adj. "Of or relating to a general area where teeth are found."
Oh my God. So then! He had to remove my existing filling and drill way the hell down into my tooth. He then said, "Hmm. Wow, this is a deep one. Do you want to see?" I indicated that I did, and as he got me a mirror, I said, "Do I have any tooth left?" because that is my way: when things are going badly, I make lame-ass jokes about them.
But upon examination, it looked like he had to practically hollow out my entire tooth. What in hell is happening? Am I 90 years old? Have I never been to the dentist before in my life? Do I not follow a routine of dental hygiene at all? (Okay, so I don't floss after every meal. But how many of us do? Admit it!)
Dr. M then put a temporary filling in and told me to come back in three weeks, because I may have a bigger problem. If all is well in three weeks, he'll just put a permanent filling in. If not (i.e. if the decay is more extensive then he thinks), I'll have to revisit him and possibly have a root canal. A. Root. Canal.
Sounds fun. Isn't that one of those things where, when people are presented with a horrible situation -- like "my girlfriend is pregnant, how am I going to tell my wife?" -- they say "I'd rather have a root canal"? It's unpleasant, is what I'm saying. And painful, is what I'm also saying. And like, I don't frigging want to have one, is what I'm ultimately saying.
So, at any rate, after my emergency dental work, I went and picked up sandwiches and then went and picked up Viva from school and went back home and we watched Little Bill and ate. (Note: Viva does "eat lunch" at school, but since she is such a picky eater, we often have a snack at 12:15 when we get home, before nap.) (One more note: I am starting to develop a ridiculous crush on Little Bill's dad. He's fun, he still has a thing for his wife despite having had three kids, and he makes up goofy songs all the time. I'd hang out with him if he would lose the sweater vest.)
Um, have I mentioned that I just had dental work? Again, the Novocaine had not worn off. So I was sitting there, chewing while Little Bill and Bobby went to meet the new neighbors, and one side of my mouth wouldn't work. I went to the mirror to check myself out as I chewed and it looked like I had had a stroke. Naturally, I decided I must blog about it, and naturally, once Viva went down for her nap, I got online and Googled strokes.
According to the American Stroke Association, you should learn all you can about strokes to decrease your risk of having one: "Learn all you can today, time lost is brain lost."
Did the person writing this copy actually have a stroke? Because it appears that they used a comma when a semi-colon, or even, God forbid, a colon was called for.
Yes, I am that tacky. Hello, nice to meet you! Excuse me while I drool on your pants. Have I mentioned that I just had dental work?
At any rate, I've decided that "time lost is brain lost" is my new motto. I'm having T-shirts made. And mugs. Place your orders now!