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Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Now I Know Why They Call It Laughing Gas

And I still love my dental office.

That tooth that I thought I cracked? I did. Fractured it vertically all the way down to the root. So they had to extract it. In pieces. This made me a trifle nervous, but I've had two c-sections in my time, and LASIK, so what's a little dental surgery? The worst part - for me (YMMV) - is the smell of burning tooth as that drill applies friction. Guess what? You can't smell burning tooth with the little gas mask over your nose. Bonus!

Nitrous Oxide is my new friend. And yeah, "laughing gas" is an appropriate nickname for it. The dental office I use (and love, see?) has a very multicultural staff, and my dentist and hygienist today both had soothing Mexican accents. In my laughing-gassy state I cracked up every time the dentist asked me to open my mouth (because Dora the Explorer was yelling "¡abre!" in my head) and every time the hygienist asked me to breathe deeply through my nose (where Rosita and Elmo were singing "Respirar").

Yes, I do watch too much children's television. At least I'm keeping up my Spanish language skills.

In any case, after they drilled that baby out and built up the bone underneath and sutured it, they gave me instructions (cool drinks, soft foods, don't overdo, here take these prescription Motrin and Amoxicillin capsules - the usual) and sent me on my way. I guess I'm doing the indoor stuff on the garage-cleaning today while this heals. And having noodles for supper (and they won't be al dente).

 While I was out my mom sent me more pix of my kids at the beach. And that makes days spent at the dentist - even though I love my dentist I'm not fond of the procedures - worthwhile.

ETA: And then... the suture came out. Thankfully, this was during business hours, because I really don't want to have to call in an emergency dental strike. Now, I love my dentist, as I've said up top, but I don't actually want to see them more than once a week or so if I can help it. But in I went, and they took the gauze and slapped on a patch that looks and feels (and tastes) rather like very soft Silly Putty. As long as it stays on for a day in order to protect the previously-sutured spot, I'm good. And now, back to my warm-not-hot noodles and my applesauce.