Root canal day. After the chirpy assistant took my
blood pressure (fine, by the way. I have the BP of a reptile, always have.),
she laid a heavy apron over me – the kind they put on you before Xrays.
I headed to the endodontist this morning with the same enthusiasm each of Henry’s wives showed heading to the tower.
“Xrays?” I innocently asked.
“Oh, yes, we will take some, but we’ll keep this on during your procedure. A lot of the patients really like it!”
“Ah, like a thunder shirt on a dog,” I replied. It seemed futile to tell her that for me the sensation was that of being pinned to the chair.
The endodontist breezed in, elbow bumped me in greeting, and got to work. I had suggested that if they happened to have some general anesthetic lying around, that would be just dandy with me, but I will say this guy was a maestro with the syringe. Thanks be to the heavens. My mouth very soon had as much sensitivity as a cinder block.
Aside from having a rubber square draped over half of my face, and enough hardware to rebuild the Eiffel Tower inserted for over an hour, it was okay.
Good thing, since I’m having another one done the end of September.
Oh, and the cost – and not covered by insurance – was $2,000.