The
other morning at breakfast I bit into a quesadilla and felt something hard and
experienced a “crunching” feeling that shouldn´t have been there. Close examination confirmed that a significant
portion of my lower left cuspid had given up active work and was about to
retire to a different environment. I
immediately setup an appointment with our Dentist office; however, since there
wasn´t any pain or sensitivity the visit was scheduled for 2 weeks later. At the scheduled appointment the dentist told
me that there was not enough tooth remaining to attach a new appliance too,
therefore I needed a root canal procedure so that the placement of an appliance
post could be accomplished. Root Canal…!
Let
me digress a moment and establish the basis for which the thought of a Root Canal… sent tremors throughout my
system. My first two root canal
experiences were the result of football and basketball injuries during my High
School player days. Both were because of
accidental blows that eventually resulted in terminal nerve damage and
resulting pressure buildup within the tooth…a happening of approximately 70
years ago. These procedures were done
without nerve deadening drugs or gas, using a compressed air driven drill at
3000-4000 rpm. Water and air was used separately
to cool and clean. Imagine this used on
a tooth that was already too sensitive for even the pressure from your lip
pressing against it. My next experience was in college when Novocain was in use
for “painless” dentistry. I had the
toe-curling pleasure on 3 separate sessions when the dentist struck the bone
with the needle. Those “shocks” are
still as vivid as the very instance when they happened.
My
childhood days saw a normal amount of cavities being filled – sometimes without
drills and other times with electric drills of who knows what speed (rpm). Every visit was memorable for this writer.
As
a result any serious trip to the dentist today is a shaky time. I know technology and techniques have taken
quantum steps – air-turbine drills at 400,000 rpm with integrated water and air
for cooling and cleaning, better drugs given with a higher degree of skill,
etc.; however, it’s still me and my memories that get to show up at the
appointed time for a Root Canal.
Our
(Dolores and I) dentist, Dr. A. Lomeli, has an office located in a Riding Park
(Horses) and employs several other dentists and assistants. He is known internationally as a teacher for tooth
implants and conducts seminars and clinics for other Doctors. The office building is all white, with marble
tile floors, and colorful artwork. All
assistants are dressed in white and hustle about on quite feet. He had told me that I would have a visiting
specialist do the root canal. On the
scheduled day and hour Dolores drove me to the office with plans to do some
shopping while I was engaged and asked me to check out how much time the
procedure would take. Entering the
waiting area I announced myself to the duty receptionist and asked how much
time would it be before Dolores could pick me up. With a straight face the receptionist said “Oh,
dos cervesas más o menos.” I relayed the
info to Dolores “approximately one hour, more or less” then sat down to await
my Doctor who was “on his way.”
About
twenty minutes later a young man with horn-rimmed eyeglasses, spiked dark hair
(like Dolores), dressed in faded blue jeans, and carrying what looked like a
fishing tackle box entered building, nodded to all and disappeared into the
back. Having been previously told by
Dolores what my specialist looked like I wasn´t surprised when he returned,
introduced himself as Dr. Carrillo and guided me back to his office for the
dreaded Root Canal .
Approximately
1 ½ hours later I emerged from an amazing experience. The specialist was cool and professional and
did the root canal without any unusual discomfort for me other than sitting
with my mouth open (occasionally closed) for slightly more than an hour. He guided me verbally through each stage of
the procedure and visually showed me the progress through x-ray´s instantly
displayed on a monitor screen directly in front of my eyes. At completion he suggested I might need 1
ibuprofen (no more) later that evening as the numbness wore off (not
required). I almost tipped him…lol.
After
paying my bill Dolores and I went shopping at Liverpool for some Essence of
Cuisine essentials before returning home.
By early evening the numbness was gone and life returned to normal.
