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Mike’s Musings: You don’t know pain until you’ve been in dentist chair for four hours

I have a high tolerance for pain. Separate a shoulder, strain my Achille’s tendon, chronic back pain, etc. I’ve done it and had it, but none of those compare to the pain created by a dentist drilling on your teeth.
Last week was my time to face the pain mongers. I had been convinced to spend a lot of money to reconstruct my mouth. The first part of the process was to set 5 posts into my bone, which after healing time would become implants.
Now normally dentists would set one post, and then have you come in for another appointment to do the next, and then another appointment for the next, and so on. But the macho guy I think I am, I demanded they do them all at once. My reasoning was I didn’t have time to make the dentist office my second home.
Well the process began at 9 am last Friday. I was already dreading that day a week leading up to it. But as I am, I dutifully made my way to the dental office, and when my name was called, laid back on the dental chair listening to the office provided Sinatra music in the background.
Without much introduction the dentist and his assistant commanded “open your mouth” and the drilling began in earnest for the first post. Forty-five minutes later, after what seemed twice as long, the dentist flipped my chair to the right and said “See. Look at how perfectly straight the post was planted.”
I could only groan, knowing it was the first of five posts. I counted in my mind, 45 minutes times 5, would be 3 hours and 45 minutes in the dental chair enduring all sorts of pain sensations. Why in the world, I thought, did I agree to this?
The pain didn’t subside. I was told the first post was the easiest, and I can attest to that. More pain was felt as the day grew on. For their part I give the dentist and his assistant credit. They took no breaks, no lunch, they just kept drilling with blood strewn everywhere and humming to the latest Sinatra tune. As the songs continue, I could only think how much I hate Sinatra and his music. I really don’t think I would make a good dentist. I know I’m not a very good patient.
After all was said and done, he gave me a prescription for Motrin and Clindamycin obviously for pain, swelling and infection. I have always resisted prescription medicines and told the dentist so, but he sternly demanded that I follow his directions and take both for a week.
I am so glad, I have followed. It is now Day 4, and the pain and bleeding hasn’t subsided, except when I take the Motrin. Miraculously for a couple hours the pain goes away. I can’t eat much; thus I resort to a liquid diet. That’s fine because I need to lose a couple pounds. Who needs all the junk I put in belly, anyways?
But as the Motrin affects subside, and the pain starts creeping back, I yearn for the day my mouth will be healed. Did I tell you I hate dentists. I’m still wondering why I agreed to this procedure.

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