For those keeping score

Go to the dentist yesterday. Spend 25 minutes in the waiting room, filling out a form where I am asked: what is your purpose for visiting and where I write, “broken molar.”

Go into a typical dental torture chamber and sit in chair that is far less comfortable than it looks. Sweat for 10 minutes.

Asst comes in. “What are you here for?”

“A broken molar,” I say.

“Which one?”

“Top, right, far back.”

We’ll need to take an x-ray. 5 minutes later she shoves a large piece of plastic in my mouth and throws a heavy sanitary apron on top of me.

Sweat 10 minutes.

Asst reenters and sticks x-rays in a light right in front of me so I can stare at a picture of my broken molar for the next 20 minutes. Have I mentioned I have serious issues with all things dental?

Doc enters. “What are you here for?”

“A broken molar,” I say, staring at my x-ray which he does not look at.

“Which one?”

“Top, right, far back.”

Doc sticks a mirror in my mouth. “You have a broken molar.”


“Yep. You’ll need a root canal and a cap.”

“Thank God. I thought this was going to suck.”

“Yeah. If you want, we have an endodontist on site on Mondays. You can come in then and I can do the cap prep right after that.”

To his credit, the dentist actually seemed cool. He didn’t give me any lip for not coming into the office in three years. Then he split.

15 minutes later the asst comes in and tells me what the cost will be for the whole thing. Then she gave me a prescription for penicillin, because apparently my mouth has the clap.

Good news is my insurance works. I apparently don’t have a waiting period. The visit for one official mirror look cost me nothing. Likewise, the penicillin was also no cost (thanks to different insurance).

The suck is now waiting until Monday and hoping I don’t wake up in screeching pain with what is apparently a broken molar that needs a root canal.

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