My poor, dear husband's pickup broke down on the way to his interview. He had just fixed something on one wheel Wednesday, and on his way to this long awaited interview, the same darn thing broke on the other side! I was on my way to the dentist and of no help, and he was ready to give up. In the end he called a taxi which took him to the rental place, he rented a car and drove the two hours to his interview, for which he was half an hour late.
Had it been me I would have thrown myself at their feet begging mercy and prattling on about how my vehicle failed me and the fact that I'd walked across half of Reno to get the part and how nobody spoke english at the part store and they didn't have the part anyway and how I'd taken a taxi and ultimately rented a car to get there. Not so much my husband. He said "sorry, had some car trouble" and left it at that. He had called ahead of time so that's good. Anyway, it's a mine. That's a manly place, I'm sure they'll understand a fellow man of few words. In the end they let him interview, it went pretty well and we'll find out if he's hired next week.
Now back to my story. I got to the dentist and triumphantly pointed out the tooth I thought was dead and nodded with glee when he banged on it with some metal tool and it did indeed hurt.
Thanks doc, for not just taking my word for it.
Then he took an xray and we turned to watch the digital image pop up, certain it would display a horrendous black gas pocket of doom.
It did not.
It looked FINE.
My dentist looked at me in sadness and despair and I returned the look. Maybe his look was more frustration and impatience. I wouldn't blame him, this was getting ridiculous. Mine was definitely sadness and despair.
He explained that it sure sounded like that was the tooth, that sometimes they can be dead and it won't show up on xray, but without the xray backing it up, it was going to be a leap of faith. If he opened it up and the tooth was fine, we were still commited to doing a root canal on it, and I would be back to square one with the same pain I had before, plus the added bonus of a sore, previously intact and now root canaled tooth.
The decision was agonizing, the worst case scenario worse than I could ever imagine, but I knew I could not have a repeat of the previous night, and I would rather risk it all than leave that office knowing the pain of the previous couple of days was coming with me.
So I had him open it up. The numbing shots were nothing. I was super brave...and in heaven when they took effect. Then he drilled.
Then he said "do you smell that?"
He said my tooth was deader than a doornail.
And I rejoiced.
And he drilled and filled and I fell a little bit in love with every person on staff at Mark Funke DDS in Carson City, NV. To them much love.
Boone did not vomit even once last night, and I am living happily ever after with my dead, but not extracted, upper right canine tooth.