This was me yesterday, holding my face, bad hair, looking at food but unable to eat, aching. I woke up in the night with a terrible toothache so first thing yesterday morning I headed straight for my wonderful dentist's office. Our dentist has cared for our teeth for more than 30 years. His office is in an old farmhouse shaded by pecan trees, in a small town thirty-five miles south of Atlanta.
When I got to the dentist office, there were x-rays, lots of poking, and plenty of looking around and it wasn't long before I was sent to see an endodontist. The endodontist was confident that I needed a root canal and a crown so he went straight to work - x-rays and drilling. Suddenly, he stopped, his face became solemn as he said, your tooth root is broken into. You'll have to get your tooth extracted. He put a patch on it, charged me a large sum of money and sent me on my way.
It wasn't long before I was in agony, and at this point, almost begging for someone to get rid of my tooth. Tears were streaming down my face uncontrollably as I tried to wait patiently for the extraction. As I faintly heard Adele playing in the background, I was clinching to the arms of the chair as the oral surgeon yanked my tooth out.
Once again I headed out of the oral surgeon's office writing another big check.
So today, my face is sore and swollen but hopefully on the mend. In just a few short months I'll have the opportunity to spend even more money on an implant, and a crown...yay!
I'm counting on the week getting better from this point forward. I'm focusing on thoughts of my future royal status as a queen once I get my crown.
