carbon fiber tooth

I had a root canal today. It wasn’t as bad as I thought.

There were a few moments when my dentist left the room and I was alone with the nitrous oxide buzz and the taste of blood and the hovering overlord light in my face.

I used these moments to email my girlfriend with my phone.

“I don’t know what they are doing to me, but they very clearly want me dead. I taste blood.”

“Did you get the gas?” she asked.

“Oh yeah.” I replied.

I then typed in “Carbon fiber tooth” and held it up for my dental technician to see. He paused in the process of shaping my temporary tooth with the “fweee! fweeeeeee!” sound of the drill to investigate. I indicated that I would settle for a titanium tooth.

Afterward they prescribed me Vicodin, Motrin, and Penicillin. The technician said I should take something as soon as I got home because 9 times out of ten there is “discomfort”. I was reminded of a Bill Cosby diatribe on this very topic.

I picked up my prescription and drove back to my house in a flash flood. Down town, cars were sinking under water and I still had a weird feeling thanks to the nitrous and the numbness. I drove through an enormous puddle and slowed to avoid splashing a family crossing the street.

Finally home, dripping wet from the firehose volume of water gushing out of the sky, I enjoyed my first cold soda in quite some time. My teeth are no longer sensitive and I live on relatively high ground.

Things seem to be okay.