What's worse than getting your root canal redone?
Getting your root canal redone...
in two phases,
I thought I was just coming in for initial appointment. You know...x-rays, some prodding with dental tools, and a stop by the receptionist to set up the dreaded appointment for the root canal. But after poking around the endodontist said he had time to start the root canal now. Only when he took his gloves off, threw them in the hole on the counter, slapped his knee and said "OK well, you're all done for today. We cleaned out two of the four roots. The receptionist will set up an appointment to finish the other two." did it dawn on me that agreeing to "getting started" today was a bad idea. I walked toward the receptionist touching my numb right ear wishing I had thought this through a little more.
on an empty stomach,
It was then I also remembered that in my rush to get out the door I never bothered to have breakfast that morning. Picturing myself with things dribbling out the side of my mouth and biting my tongue made me cringe. Maybe I could find some chocolate milk and a straw?
paying for it yourself,
Luckily I had enough foresight to sign up for the more expensive dental plan because paying the 20% of the procedure was rough enough. Mom and Dad, if I never told you earlier, THANK YOU for financing my all my previous dental work.
without your mom around to baby you.
Now, my mom had 10 kids, so pampering was never part of the "getting sick" routine. But she would do wonderful things like pick up your prescription for you, buy you some fancy kind of juice, and maybe even run by Blockbuster to get a new movie or two (remember when that was a thing?) while you were plopped down on the couch in front of the TV with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel on your cheek. Nope not anymore, instead I drove myself to the pharmacy, somehow communicated with my numb mouth what I needed, waited, paid for my Vicodin and penicillin, and headed in to work where there were managers who still needed things done COB. I couldn't even call my mom in Indonesia for some sympathy because it was too late and I verbal communication was...well, limited.
Basically it's been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. This whole being an adult thing has it's perks, but man it comes at a cost. And if you've never read the book "Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" you missed an important part of childhood.
Getting your root canal redone...
in two phases,
I thought I was just coming in for initial appointment. You know...x-rays, some prodding with dental tools, and a stop by the receptionist to set up the dreaded appointment for the root canal. But after poking around the endodontist said he had time to start the root canal now. Only when he took his gloves off, threw them in the hole on the counter, slapped his knee and said "OK well, you're all done for today. We cleaned out two of the four roots. The receptionist will set up an appointment to finish the other two." did it dawn on me that agreeing to "getting started" today was a bad idea. I walked toward the receptionist touching my numb right ear wishing I had thought this through a little more.
on an empty stomach,
It was then I also remembered that in my rush to get out the door I never bothered to have breakfast that morning. Picturing myself with things dribbling out the side of my mouth and biting my tongue made me cringe. Maybe I could find some chocolate milk and a straw?
paying for it yourself,
Luckily I had enough foresight to sign up for the more expensive dental plan because paying the 20% of the procedure was rough enough. Mom and Dad, if I never told you earlier, THANK YOU for financing my all my previous dental work.
without your mom around to baby you.
Now, my mom had 10 kids, so pampering was never part of the "getting sick" routine. But she would do wonderful things like pick up your prescription for you, buy you some fancy kind of juice, and maybe even run by Blockbuster to get a new movie or two (remember when that was a thing?) while you were plopped down on the couch in front of the TV with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel on your cheek. Nope not anymore, instead I drove myself to the pharmacy, somehow communicated with my numb mouth what I needed, waited, paid for my Vicodin and penicillin, and headed in to work where there were managers who still needed things done COB. I couldn't even call my mom in Indonesia for some sympathy because it was too late and I verbal communication was...well, limited.
Basically it's been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. This whole being an adult thing has it's perks, but man it comes at a cost. And if you've never read the book "Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" you missed an important part of childhood.
