One of my lower molar gave out on me last night. Of all things a tiny but rock hard guava seed was its undoing. Chewing through the soft bits of the fruit, I suddenly found pieces of enamel and filling. A good chunk of the tooth had crumbled away!
What I ended up with was a fractured tooth with a very sharp edge. It was like having a razor blade in my mouth whenever my tongue brushed against it. This afternoon I did something that I have avoided doing for the past 10 years. Go to a dentist.
I confessed my sin to her and she smiled bemusedly. I asked for local anesthesia like a nervous school girl and to her credit she did not burst out laughing.
In an attempt to appear calm and composed I laced the fingers of my hands together and placed them on my midriff. While she was digging away at my destroyed molar, I found my fingers dancing up and down with every stab. Truth be told, it was not that bad but having a metal instrument with a tapering end poking around the inside of my head is not my idea of fun.
After what seemed like an eternity of torture she declared that we were done. Like the proverbial bat I was out if that hell in no seconds flat.
“Don’t forget your appointment in 2 weeks time!” she trilled behind me. What a witch!