They drilled away one offending molar last week (a process I can liken only to spending an hour in a dentist's chair having a tooth drilled away -- the experience is sui generis) and put in a temporary crown, but this sumbitch still hurts. The other root canal may be performed on a lower molar over on the other side of my mouth, which has been crowned for years but has been acting up rather hideously of late. While eating, I have two options -- chew on the left and experience pain, or chew on the right and, er, experience pain. This week, I've been eating quite a bit of pudding and yogurt and clear soups.
Wednesday morning, I hike off to the endodontists' (a word of which I'd until now been blissfully unaware) lair to take my punishment like a man.
A couple of tiny positive notes among the torrent of bad news:
- I've been given a scrip for some lovely Vicodin. (I like Vicodin real good; I loathe the fact that I need it.)
- I welcome with enthusiasm the opportunity to live-blog a root canal procedure. I'm sure the surgeon and I can come to some kind of arrangement where the laptop doesn't get in the way of the hammer and tongs.