I really, really, really like my dentist. I’ve had the same technician (Danica!) for years now, and she keeps up with our lives, because JWo goes to her as well. I had to change dentists a few years ago when Dr. Palmer retired, so now I see Dr. Morgan, and anyone who recalls my cracked-tooth-crown-root-canal saga from last year will know, Dr. Morgan is quite patient with me. He drew diagrams of my tooth, explained the science and anatomy to me, and answered all my questions, because I am the original Curious Georgina, and I find all these things fascinating, plus, the way I see it, facts remove fear.
So I don’t think either one of them blinked when I asked them if my tooth (yes, same said tooth) was loose. They said it was not. I said, “Well, I’ve been thinking I could just reach right in there and yank it out with a couple of swift tugs.” If they thought this was funny, they did not laugh. Nope. My tooth isn’t going anywhere. It’s funny what our brains can do – I’m still unused to the texture of the crown, and gum likes to stick to just one small part of the tooth. (Good thing I don’t really like gum all that much.) I have phantom pain – phantom, because if I had real pain, I’d have levitated right out of the chair, what with the tapping percussion and testing they did on my tooth, and apparently, the delusion my tongue can push the tooth around.
But since my visit on Tuesday, I’ve let it go. Facts. Imagination. I have both in vast quantities. But nothing knocking about in my head ‘cept ideas and dreams. Welcome to Friday!