It was an afternoon from, well, hell.
Drifting away on a sea of nitrous, I squirmed only slightly when the dentist injected the anesthetic in my jaw. "I'll be back in just a few minutes," he promised.
"I have to pee," was my only thought.
Then I turned my attention to the TV over my head. I'd selected HGTV, as is usual when I'm in the dentist's chair. Unfortunately there followed a depressing episode of Property Virgins.
You know, where the would-be first-time homebuyers come away empty handed.
Continuing to drift, I vaguely registered the start of a second episode of Property Virgins.
Then I fell asleep, waking just as the episode ended - once again a loser ending wth the homebuyers coming up empty.
Depressing run of episodes.
The third episode starts and still no sign of my dentist. I feel as though the anesthetic is starting to wear off, and this worries me.
I am a terrible patient and have truly appreciated this dentists's concern and care. (Read: nitrous and hefty anesthetic.)
I've lost track of time, but I know I've been in the chair for a good long while before my dentist returns.
Re-numbing is necessary by now, so more injections follow. I squirm again. These hurt worse than the first batch.
Injections are followed by another voyage on the nitrous ocean.
My dentist, God love him, says little, except for the necessaries, before he starts working. So I don't - at this point on time - know that what I thought was a tiny filling falling out of my head, ended up being the tip of a veritable iceberg of an ancient, mercury-laden filling from childhood. It all had to come out and be refilled with a resin substance that is much stronger and not as lethal as the old one.
Two and a half hours later, I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY have to pee. And I am $254.00 poorer. And the new filling is good for the rest of my life.
And my jaw is sore this evening, giving me permission for a glass of wine.
May YOUR dentist appointments be brief and painless.