Masochist?

You're truly going to think I've lost my marbles and there is something seriously wrong with me! Here I am blogging about dentists again. Could it be some deep-seeded masochistic side of myself that I didn't know I had?

Last fall I had a root canal. It was a blast. If you don't remember, I happen to have WonderDentist. He is humorous and almost pain free. His staff is a riot; going to the dentist isn't the thing of horror that so many people think it is - not when it's "my" dental office.

A few days ago I noticed a niggling little toothache. Let's face it, those things are never fun! I wasn't concerned about having to go have someone stuffing weird instruments and fingers into my mouth. I was mentally adding up the cha-ching sounds of a dental bill. I have insurance, but I figured it wasn't going to cover a huge amount of work and it felt like the root canal tooth that hurt.

I decided to tough it out for a day or two in case it was my imagination. It didn't go away. Nope, it hurt. I gave up and made the call, and instantly had an appointment for the next morning.

I love that place. I love the fact that the business manager waved at me when I parked in front of her window. I love that I can flitter in and instantly we are all chittering about what's been going on in our lives. They know everyone that goes there, and they make it a point to make you feel special.

After looking at new x-rays, WonderDentist confirmed that it was the root canal tooth. That's surprising to me, and I had to ask him if I had some kind of Lazarus tooth that came back from the dead. He explained that sometimes this happens, but he was kicking himself because it shouldn't have - especially so soon. He said he'd credit my account, and then he dropped the bad news on me.

He had to send me away - to some funky root canal specialist. Who the hell knew there was such a thing? Who the hell decides to spend their career specializing in root canals? I figured I was doomed to be a hurting unit with some sadist meaniepants that enjoyed giving oral pain to unsuspecting fools.

I whimpered a bit. I told WonderDentist I was rather attached to this office and felt like I would be unfaithful by going anywhere else. For years, nobody else has been allowed to come near my mouth with silver instruments of doom.

He assured me the new dude would "take good care of me" which only added to my apprehensive feelings of being in the hands of a sadist dental freak.

I wasn't exactly trembling in fear, but I was a mite nervous walking into the new office. The receptionist was wonderful, the dental assistant a bit shy, and then "HE" entered.

My heart flipped. My hormones raced. He, to put it mildly, was a studmuffin. Suddenly, I really DID want him to take care of me, but I wasn't thinking dental thoughts. Shame on me! Down, girl, down!

He stood there with his perfect bod, perfect smile, sexy eyes, and looking fine in scrubs and all I could think of was "wow, this is the dental version of Grey's Anatomy!" WonderDentist sent me to root canal heaven - I wonder if he even had a clue.

As it turns out, I have a small infection near last year's root canal. SexyDentist said it could be last year's infection flaring up again, and opted to put me on a run of antibiotics to see if that would clear things up. If it doesn't, then I'll go back to him and let him shove those silver tools into my face.

I truly do want the antibiotics to work their magic. I don't really want him to have to reopen that tooth and poke around in there. I figure it will probably suck. But, I guess if that is the path that I have to take, at least I'll have some eye candy - that doesn't cause cavities!

Peace