I care more about what people think than I'd like to admit. With that said, for the most part, I feel like I'm pretty much what-you-see-is-what-you-get. I don't make a habit of talking about people behind their backs, and I try to be the same person, whether in private or public (who
wouldn't want to try to emulate Atticus Finch??). But when I can only smile with half my face, I feel kind of self-conscious.
You see, a couple Mondays ago, I got this excruciating pain in one of my teeth. It's a tooth I've had previous issues with-- I've had a root canal and a crown. However, it clearly wasn't in great shape. Begrudgingly, I called a dentist that a couple friends recommended (because, ummm, it may have been a few years since I've been to a dentist. Gross, I know).
I toughed out the pain, and a little before 3:00, I walked in and met with Dr. Beck. They took x-rays, which nearly made me jump out of my skin. I mean, come on, I've been avoided biting down on that side all day. Yikes.
The long and the short of it-- Dr. Beck saw what looked to be an abscess, so he called an endodontist, Dr. Brandys, who could fit me in right away.
I left the office, the pain from my tooth now shooting up through my whole face, got in my car and turned the key. The engine revved but wouldn't turn over. I tried it a few more times. Nothing. I called my husband, Mike, asked if there were any quick fixes I could try. No. I trudged back into the dentist's.
The secretary, who was super-nice, asked if I had cables to jump the Altima. I went out to check, and then Dr. Beck himself came out. He told me his son was driving around, but since they expected me at the endodontist now, he thought that maybe Mark could just drive me there, and we could deal with my car later. Really, talk about full-service dentistry: a check-up and chauffeur service. And perhaps now is a good time to remind you that I'd only met the dentist about half an hour ago.
So, Mark and I had a nice drive to Glen Ellyn, where he dropped me off, gave me his number-- just in case my life continued to fall apart in a uniform way and I became stranded again-- and I went to the endodontist.
I'll skip the non-exciting details, but Dr. Brandys said that I'd have to have a root canal... or, I guess, a re-root canal? He'd have to undo the old one and replace it. Now, it was 4-something, I was in Glen Ellyn, and I had no ride. Naturally, pretty much all my Wheaton friends were either sick or working, but I called THE MOST WONDERFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD, my neighbor, Connie, who came to my rescue.
She drove me home, and the girls and I waited for Mike to come home.
This would be a fairly good end to the story, I think. But hold onto your hat... there's more.
We had to go check on my car, still parked at Dr. Beck's office. The battery was fine, the car couldn't be jumped, so Mike dropped all the Green girls back off at the house and went to wait for the tow truck.
Wednesday went fine. I didn't have a car, but it was gorgeous out, and I had Tylenol with codeine. I love Tylenol with codeine. :)
Thursday was my root canal day. The car still wasn't ready, so Mike worked from Wheaton and stayed with the girls after dropping me off at the doc at noon.
Root canals aren't necessarily a good time, but really, it's not all that awful either. I was numbed, and the doc put a little prop in the other side of my mouth, so I didn't have to just hold it open the whole time. Dr. B did his thing, sat my chair up and said, "Well, we have a problem." Now I don't want to sound like a defeatist or a complainer here, but my only thought was,
Of course we do. He then went on to tell me that the previous root canal-er had used three posts instead of one, which he'd seen before. What he hadn't seen before was the type of cement used. He tried every trick in his book, and he couldn't break through it. So I get to brag about being a first IN HIS CAREER! Root canal fail. At least I was left without a nice, half-paralyzed-looking face. And at least I took a picture of myself, trying to smile. You just try to do this without a shot of Novocaine!
I left the office, and remember, I'm car-less, so I called Mike to see if the girls were awake. Nope. Fortunately, there was a Starbucks about a block away, so I went and hung out there for about an hour. Figures that this is the day both girls set records with their napping times. At a little over an hour, I realized,
Why am I just sitting here? I'll just start walking home. I called Mike, told him the plan. We were both certain the girls would be up soon, and he could intercept me.
4.2 miles later, I was finished with my post-root canal stroll down lovely Roosevelt, the girls were still sleeping, and my face was still numb.
Oh, and that night, we decided to go to the grand opening of Chik-Fil-A for dinner (because gosh darn it, we deserved it!), where Noelle puked up her entire stomach contents all over me.
The End.
Update: Our toilet broke the next night, right before we had company over.
