Dental Work

Last Tuesday I had to go to the dental surgeon to see about my two troublesome teeth.  These two teeth had been giving me problems for a couple of years now (even before my cancer), but I never really did anything about it.  The pain would come and go every once in a while, but I always ignored it because I was just too busy living life, and then of course, I had cancer to beat.  Finally, a few weeks ago, I couldn't stand the pain anymore, so I went to the dentist.  The dentist said my problem was a bit extensive and he ended up sending me to the dental surgeon.  The dental surgeon said that the two teeth definitely had to come out.  The wisdom tooth on the bottom (on the same side as the two difficult teeth), he said, was also gonna have to come out eventually, but that would be at another point in time.  The wisdom tooth, he said, was growing in, but was growing in on its side.  Go figure.  Anyway, I was absolutely dead set against the use of needles, so laughing gas was used.  (Hah, some gas!  All it did was make me cold and cranky, like it usually does.)  The procedure took a little longer than I would have liked, but the surgeon was gentle and had a good bedside manner, I guess you could say.  All throughout the procedure he talked about what he was going to do right before he did it.  That made feel good, let me tell you.  After the procedure was over, the dental hygienist remarked about how calm I was throughout everything.  But of course, I tell her.  I was a cancer survivor, knocking cancer on its ass.  After that, everything else is relatively minor.

*kathy*