I have a cracked molar; correction, I had a cracked molar and now it has been fixed. This required a visit to the dentist, numbing, drilling, filling. Unfortunately, the first round of numbing did not affect the entire tooth, so in the middle of drilling, a nerve ending shot straight into my brain and with no thought to the aperture in my mouth, I began a hand dance accompanied by guttural sounds meant to explain my degree of discomfort. Another round of numbing took care of the problem and the drilling commenced once again. The problem is twofold here. Once a raw nerve has been drilled into, the body is tense and anxious. It was hard to relax and take deep breaths. There were things shoved into my mouth that resembled truck ramps and hoses were afixed to suction out the water that other hoses were spraying in. Breathe, I ordered myself, eyes shut. Perhaps a massaging chair would help to alleviate the stress. The second part of the problem was the noise; the machinery buzzing and high pitched squealing of the drill as it turns tooth into powder, routing out the cracked area. Perhaps some ear buds would soften this terrifying racket. The filling back in wasn’t really a problem, it just took longer than I would have liked as each packed composite segment required a pistol shaped infrared device shoved into the back of my mouth in order to activate it. It feels like a parking garage has taken up residence between my teeth. They say I have a small mouth. They are the very first people EVER to tell me this.

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