Well, things are moving quickly, so I guess that's a good thing. Regular dentist took a look and an x-ray, said the odds are very low the tooth can be saved. He got me an appointment with an oral surgeon this afternoon, so very likely #31 is down to its last hours.
I have always been terrified going to the dentist, ditto for today in spades, but I guess best to get it done as it's not going to heal itself.
As has been commented, the fear is much worse than the procedure. It took the doc just one look to determine the tooth was shot. We had a discussion about what was to come. I asked that he not scrimp on the painkillers. And then it was time to go.
Out came this srynge, looked the size to use on a horse, and he poked me in about three places. I didn't mind that, the more the better. Then he left for 10 minutes to let it work.
Then back with two nurses and a tray of implements that looked suitable for a variety of torture. But first a few more shots of painkiller. This doc was OK.
And then he went to work. He'd said the tooth might come out in a bunch of pieces, especially since it had had a root canal and was more brittle. And so it did. After a bunch of pushing and pulling and a frontal assault by some drill-like gismo, and some more pushing and pulling, and the sound of what I assume was tooth snapping, he announced with satisfaction that one root was cleanly out.
Root #2 seemed a bit more of a challenge but eventually it too succombed. And the new gap was stuffed with gauze, and I was told to keep biting down on it hard.
So far so good, really. Talking with one's teeth clenched is not easy either to do or to understand, but it can be done. Got my instructions for the next few days and then was off.
Off to the pharmacy, that is, which also doubles as a supermarket. The place was mobbed, snow coming tomorrow and everyone panics. Got in line, after a while it was my turn, nice old lady assistant figured out what I was saying, and then said, "It will be ready in two hours, we're swamped."
I'd already told her about my tooth. Two hours really?
Call in an hour, she said, who knows.
So I went off to buy some liquid foods. Did that. I was feeling so relieved that the extraction was over, and of course the painkillers were still doing their thing, that I didn't even object when the woman ahead of me in the express line produced about 40 items instead of the supposed maximum of 12.
And now what to do? Home was 20 minutes away. Better just to wait. I went back to the pharmacy to plunk myself down on the bench. The old lady saw me, waved me over. I put a rush on it, she said. :-)
I paid the bill, 40 cents. Thanked her as profusely as I could manage with clenched teeth. I have written before about customer service and how some get it, some don't. She did.
I walked out of the store. There was a Salvation Army guy and his kettle. I never give. Today there wasn't a moment of hesitation, a few dollars in the kettle and a smile on my face. Sometimes good behavior leads to more good behavior.
Home now, several hours later. I think I have finally got the bleeding to stop. Things hurt a good bit now that the painkillers have worn off. So far at least, as others suggested, the anticipation has been the worst thing. I can put up with a little pain.