Ok, I'll admit it. Right here, in front of everyone, well, 14 minions anyway. Really more like 13 since I'm a minion too. As a kid I was never much for tooth brushing. Mom would ask. And nag. And the more she would nag, the more I would lie about it. Because of these bad habits fostered throughout my youth, I now have a mouth full of silver fillings.
One year ago, at my last dental cleaning, my dentist says, "you know we really should replace all of these silver fillings with porcelain. It will look better." He assured me that this wold be purely for cosmetic reasons so I respectfully told him to back the heck off. Today I learned the hard way that I should have let him do it, for you see, unbeknownst to my dentist, lurking beneath those shiny silver fillings were little cavities just waiting to make their appearance. Today, at my yearly cleaning, when I mentioned that I thought I might have a cavity or something, I was informed that my old silver fillings had become loose and trouble was brewing beneath the surface. I had two cavities in my back teeth, one on the top and one on the bottom.
So she applied "topical anesthetic," which tastes disgusting by the way. Then she shot me with what I am quite sure was some sort of a veterinary needle, possibly intended for use in elephants. I actually felt a little twinge in my eye followed by pressure, for a moment I thought my eye might actually burst like a grape. And then we waited. And while we waited the 12 year old hygienist cleaned my teeth and my face became quite numb. The whole left side, right up to my eye. Have you ever had your eye go numb? It's bizarre. just bizarre. I don't recommend it. The 12 year old thought it was cool. I assure you, it was not cool. And I waited.
Just when I thought were were going to wait until the numbness had worn off, they started bringing in chairs and the dentist returned with the 12 year old hygienist (seriously, she had to be like 5 minutes out of school). So she drilled. And she drilled. And then she changed the bit and drilled some more. And just when I had finally began to tune out the high pitched squeal of the drill she stopped, only to change the bit again, this time to something with more umph. Now there was a little dirt bike riding around in my head, and she drilled some more, until that finally stopped too. "I had to drill much deeper than I had expected," I guess that was supposed to make me feel better? I thought she was going to drill to the center of the earth through my head.
"Now we are going to fill the holes" and she shoots some goop into my teeth. Well that's a relief, I thought maybe you were going to leave me like this... Once it's dry she has to drill some more to make my bite right. "Close down and bite on this," she puts a little strip of what looks like carbon paper into my mouth. At this point my head is under so much presser I'm not even sure how my jaw goes back together, forget my bite. And now again with the drilling. Four more times, paper, bite, drill. Paper, bite, drill. And we are finished, or more likely I give up, and drive home with half of my head still numb.
The numbness didn't begin to wear off until about 9 pm. At that point the pain set in. With my face screaming in pain I was pawing though the medicine cabinet desperately searching for some of Trophy Husband's back pills. Oh, but he took those with him to Egypt. That's ok, half a bottle of wine works just as well. At least for the time being. But be advised Trophy Husband, you have been put on notice. One more infraction like this and you might just loose your title. And by the way, The Kid's gonna need braces. On second thought, forget the back pills, I need more wine.
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