Oh my bunnyslippers after I leaped off the bunk bed on Thursday morning everything has been happening at once. There was a dress rehearsal that night, and performances Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Sunday I also had church before the performance and a 50’s dinner after the performance. And then this morning I went to the dentist, by myself, and I was scared. Very scared.
You must know that I suffered two major calamities when my chin hit the floor that fateful morning. The first was a very bloody chin that refused to scab over until Saturday night, causing lots and lots of soaked through band-aids in the trash can. The other was my tooth, which was so tender that my daily menu went something like this:
Breakfast: Cook up some oatmeal, stick it in the blender.
Lunch: Cook up some dairy-free clam chowder, stick it in the blender.
Supper: Cook up some ramen noodles, drink them whole.
I had to go to the dentist. I just had to. And I was so incredibly scared, but of course I did it anyway because I had to.
So first off mom called the dentist, got their address, and made an appointment for me at 12:20. But then they called me and said they had an opening at 10:20 so I went early.
When they x-rayed my tooth they saw that there was a big crack in it. Basically, the dentist said, they would pull off the broken part, and then they could see if it was possible to save my tooth or not.
So my chair was tipped way back and they gave me those sunglasses to wear and I think that was about when I started crying. It was so embarrassing. I have never done any sort of medical procedure without my mom sitting right there, and here was this strange doctor poking around in my mouth and I felt this huge overwhelming feeling of fear and loneliness. So I lay there, trying to stay calm, while little rivers of tears ran into my ears.
The verdict was this: either the tooth had to come out (cheep procedure) or I had to get a root canal and crown (expensive procedure.) Basically, do I want a gap in my grin for the rest of my life?
But I wasn’t the one paying for this procedure. My parents were. So I took a break to call them. My mom wouldn’t answer her phone (she still thought I wasn’t going in until 12:20), so I called my dad. “I’ll call mom and get back to you in 10 or 15 minutes,” said Dad.
So a half hour passed and the dentist and his assistant kept checking to see If I was ready yet and Dad would not call back and I was embarrassed. Finally I called him back and he said he couldn’t get a hold of mom and finally finally finally mom called and said to just go ahead and save the tooth, even though it was expensive.
Fine. So my mouth was propped open, and the dentist began to do a root canal.
But what? Something was wrong. I’m still not exactly sure what it was but they couldn’t do the root canal after all. A specialist in Pueblo would have to do it, or else I would just have to pull the tooth.
Well the good news was that this decision did not have to be made instantly. The bad news was…
- How am I supposed to get to Pueblo?
- MORE expense???
- MORE trouble???
So they gave me the info and I went home and I still don’t know what I’m gonna do cause I still haven’t talked to my parents cause my cell phone died.
I know Annie or the 50’s dinner would have been a more exciting topic but right now the tooth is weighing heavily on my mind.