It worries me that the degree to which the tooth in question has decayed has a) surpassed the traditional fix of a filling, and b) surpassed the state of decay my other tooth was at before Root Canal #1.
Yesterday, I revisited the less-than-comfortable chair at my dentist's office. I have to say, it's amazing how much a dentist's chair resembles a chaise lounge at the pool -- only elevated, electrically operated, surrounded by sharp, shiny objects that, no matter how much are there to 'help' you, will ultimately hurt you, and not by a pool.
So as I lay there, mouth stretched wider than in my wildest days, I pictured myself poolside. It was the hottest of summers, and I was 20 pounds lighter. I wasn't perfect, but I'd clearly made progress in April, May and June. What's that you say? Oh, sunblock... someone's offering to put sunblock on me. Nice.
"Bite. Bite block. This should help you keep your mouth open." The dentist's lackey shoves a semi-solid wedge into my mouth.
The dentist proceeds to drill down to the depths of my tooth's roots like we've completely f*cked up all oil treaties with our friends in the Middle East, finds the root(s) and scrapes the heck out of the gaping cavity with things that look really similar to the pipe cleaners we were always given in Arts & Crafts. Actually, it looked less like pipe cleaners and more like the legs of a praying mantis. Yes.
After he deems ground zero completely eradicated of any roots or excess calcium, he stuffs some cotton pellets into the hole and seals it off with some temporary gunk. The lackey tells me I will gradually eat the temporary filling over the course of the next few days.
The good news is that I don't have to pay the $600 today. Short of being on a payment plan, I can choose to pay for the treatment on my second or even third visit! I am so lucky!