So tomorrow morning is the big day for my root canal. I’d like to tell you all I’m not freaked but that would be a lie. Or the beer talking.
(Yes, I went out drinking tonight, even though I’m sick AND I have a root canal tomorrow morning. Look, I can’t help it that everyone is leaving the company and I have going away parties every week! Me and beer is like a moth to a flame.)
I had my big freak out about the root canal back in December. When I SHOULD have had this procedure done. And instead the giant doucgebag dentist told me “nope, your bite is messed up.” Not listening to me when I said “I don’t think that would cause tooth sensitivity and PAIN. The PAIN! Do you hear me? PAIN!” To which he said “deal with it you tall bitch, and I don’t care about the pain, you can’t take that many pain pills.”
Sounds like a fun dude, right?
(I actually begged the chick at the dentist’s office Monday for anyone else. But apparently this guy is the only one who can do it. Without me shelling out tons of pesos to some sort of specialist. But I made it well know that the hate. I has it.)
That freak out had a lot to do with the woman who died like three days earlier while having a ROOT CANAL! And why do they call it a root canal anyway? Canal means water to me. And boats and cruise ships. And fruity cocktails that take away the PAIN!
I also was totally freaked out because I’ve had a root canal done before. Mind you it was like 20 years and I’m pretty sure technology and procedures have changed just a tad. Oh, for the love of God and all that is GOOD AND HOLY please let things have changed. Because the PAIN I experienced at my first root canal is a PAIN I hope to never experience again. Up until this past December and Dentist McDouchebag, my last root canal was the only time I ever cried at the dentist
I have a high threshold of pain. Clearly, since I’ve had a rotting tooth that needed a root canal since some time mid-2007. And I killed most of that pain with Advil. OK, maybe it was wine and Jack Daniels, but still. But when I was 10 and that dentist stuck a shot of Novocaine into my cavity, without numbing me up first, I saw stars and the room turned dark. I thought right then and there that God was punishing me for all the bad things I had done in my life and all the bad things I would do for the next 60 years. PAIN. Like no other, I tell you. And the tears, they just started a-flowing.
So naturally, I’m a little panicked about tomorrow morning. I’m pretty sure I can handle the pain. This tooth isn’t in as bad of shape as that other one was. And I plan to be totally hammered out of my ever-loving mind by the time I get in there. (I kid.) But I know I should be able to handle it. Only because some chick at work had a root canal two weeks ago and said “it’s not that bad.”
What I AM freaked out about is Dentist McDouchebag. My hatred of this person is off the charts. And for no other reason than he DIDN’T BELIEVE ME when I told him of the PAIN. And figured I was a pussy girl. That and when he told me I was overdosing on the pain meds, I asked “so am I supposed to just suffer in PAIN for two additional hours until I can take the pain meds again?” His answer? “Yes.”
Tell me you don’t want to fucking stick tiny needles full of acid under his toenails and make him listen to bad karaoke. Dude’s a fucking asshat.
I have this weird thing where I plan conversations out in my head sometimes. (Don’t judge the wackiness.) And I try and think of awesome responses to someone, in the off chance they ask me the question I had planned on them asking in the fake conversation in my head. So I can be witty and not stumble over my words and say things like “same to you, pal!” I’ve planned out that when this asshole asks me why I waited so long to get this fixed (you know he’s going to ask) I want to tell him that “I had to wait until the pain beat out my hatred for you.” Buuuurrrrrrn!
My mom doesn’t think this is a good idea because, well, he’s there to fix my tooth and best not to piss him off when he can do so much damage in my mouth and cause additional PAIN. Which will cost additional monies. That I do not have.
My thinking is that just because this guy is good at what he does (supposedly) I shouldn’t fawn all over him and be nice to him when he’s NOT NICE to me. Dude should know he’s being a jerk. And it will take every last ounce of will power to control my smart mouth and not make him aware of his douchebaggery.
I figure at the very least I can just bite him. And tell him it was an involuntary response to his asshattedness.