2 hours I was in that dentist’s chair.
2 hours of gag reflex, 2 hours of the horrid smell of bone being drilled, 2 hours of fingers and instruments and bloodied suction hoses poking and prodding my mouth.
This post is not for the faint of heart. Friends, my molar extraction was an ORDEAL OF EPIC PROPORTIONS.
My previous Art of Contentment posts have been warm, fuzzy things like pure wool blankets, charming pottery coffee mugs and my little loves (daschunds).
Tonight, all I can focus on is that little bottle of pills by my bedside which numb the hell my mouth just went through.
Thank you Doctors and researchers and — can I go so far as to say pharmaceuticals? — thank you for pills that ease the pain.
And I have to ask, if you’re one of the people who stoically never take pills (I know you’re out there!) I honestly don’t understand — how do you *survive* these kinds of events?
Photo Credit: EssjayNZ