not a good day

Yesterday, that is, was not a good day. I woke up paralyzed with nausea, afraid to move because I was sure that the slightest movement would result in my covering Tango with vomit. He had pressed himself into my armpit, his body stretched against my side- his favorite position. Josh usually leaves for school before I wake up, so Murray uses the opportunity to rest his head on Josh's pillow and scrunch his body under the covers. Just like a human.

After an hour of wishing the nausea away, I knew that I had to find a way to shower and get dressed, because yesterday morning was also my dreaded dentist appointment. For my root canal, ick.

Two weeks ago, I had a first appointment with a new dentist, who took the requisite dental x-rays, and found a cavity on my back lower molar. He warned me that it looked like it might be close to the root, and with a grimace, might require a root canal.

Ridiculous, I thought. I am an obsessive teeth brusher and flosser. I had braces in law school, and I learned not to eat candy to avoid stains or cavities, drink coffee through a straw to avoid staining my teeth (did you know that tip?), and I use flouride every week. My parents had dental problems while I was growing up, and their trips to the dentist scared me into action. I don't think I have EVER gone to bed with brushing my teeth. Ever. I'll ask my mom for confirmation, but when I tell you it is a compulsion, I am not exaggerating.

When my braces were removed at graduation, though, no one took x-rays, and I suspect that problem was existing at the time. The cavity is right on that moral they use as the anchor with braces, the one that gets covered by the metal band. It would have been impossible for me to prevent food from getting stuck under there.

Anyway, when I went for the filling, it turned out to need a root canal. The cavity had just infiltrated the root, and according to the dentist, if I didn't do something about it, it would decay the root and compromise the strength of the tooth. If we took out the infected nerve right away, I'd save the tooth from decaying too soon. This weekend I mourned my poor defenseless tooth, and moped around a bit, but the root canal was not bad at all.

It took about an hour and 15 minutes, long enough for my jaw to be screaming in protest from being held open. The periodontist said that many people fell asleep while he was working on their teeth, but that was soooo not going to happen with me. I did have a moment of panic when he told me that I was totally numb and wouldn't feel a thing, but then felt 3 sharp jabs in quick succession on the bottom of my jaw, under my chin. They were each less than a split second, but I was so surprised to feel such a sharp pain that I screwed my eyes up and started crying for a few seconds out of fear of what else I'd feel. That was it, though, nothing to write home about. It was certainly no worse than a regular filling, just longer.

In a month I'll meet again with my dentist to decide whether a permanent filling or cap will be required. He suspects a filling, but we'll have to see.

While the drilling was going on, I kept trying unsuccessfully to imagine myself in St. Croix to focus on other things. About halfway through, they turned on the radio or put in a cd, and strangely, played my wedding song. I say strangely, because the song I walked down the aisle to is fairly unusual and uncommon- Sarah Brightman's "No One Like You."

I took it as a sign that I should calm down, which I did.

In your eyes are my secrets
that I've never shown you
In my heart I feel
I've always known you

In your arms there's a comfort
that I never knew
You're what I've been waiting for,
there's no one like you

Sure as the sunrise, pure as a prayer
You fashioned hope right out of thin air
Ev'ry dream I abandoned,
seems it could come true
I believe in miracles,
there's no one like you.