Xanax Works Great for That

More people had their hands in my mouth today than could fit in a Volkswagon Bug. I had my back right tooth drilled down to nub and a temporary crown stuck on top of it. My head is still pounding.

In a month, I get to do it all over again. My mouth is apparently reminiscent of little Beirut. It’s a war zone. On top of the crown I had today and the one that will happen in a month, I have a total of four cavities to be filled. And just in case that’s not traumatic enough, there’s a slim chance that the tooth crowned today may be in need of a root canal. They said it didn’t appear that way, but if I feel an intense throbbing in the tooth during the coming days (weeks?) to call them. Lovely.

My teeth. They are the beelzebubs of my being. They force me go through painful circumstances all in the of name of personal restoration and a 4.0 dental GPA. (Alright, 3.2…I’m probably about $30K away from a perfect 4.0 smile).

I’ve had an on-again-off-again relationship with the dentist’s office for many, many years. Mostly off again.

The first incident happened at age 15 when I was babysitting my high school sweatheart’s little sister. We were sitting on the couch eating Fritos and my bottom back left tooth split in two. Whenever I think of it, the image of Paul Bunyan splitting wood with an ax immediately follows.

That tooth was never fully repaired. The crown for it eventually fell off sometime during college. I didn’t make it to the dentist office during those years. I was lucky to get to the grocery store during college, and I like eating food.

When my husband and I met, I always had a handful of toothpicks on me because of the black hole that had started in my defunct tooth. Once after proposing to me, he swore he wouldn’t marry me unless I got my tooth fixed.

So I did…it was after we were married, but I had promised. My dentist was grand. He explained that I had A LOT of work to be done, but to make it easier, he would write me xanax prescriptions to calm my nerves. The trick was not using the xanax except for when I had appointments.

I got the black hole tooth fixed and kicked my toothpick habit, but before we could get much further into the dental plan he had arranged, I got pregnant. Unfortunately, Xanax is on the list of medications pregnant women shouldn’t take.

So, I had a baby and stopped going to the dentist.

Until now. I’m back in the vinyl chair of despair, getting my teeth back in fighting shape. And this time, I’m doing it without anti-anxiety drugs.