I’d rather have a root canal
I had a root canal this week, my first one ever. I am here to tell you it was not bad at all.
A molar had been bothering me for weeks. Hot and cold drinks brought pain that hung on. As the days got closer to Thanksgiving, the ache worsened. I could hardly chew. With Thanksgiving Day being the worst possible time to be in that predicament, I got myself into the dentist’s chair.
“Fractured tooth,” she said. “You need a root canal.”
Root canal. Those words have become a cultural touchstone, the go-to shorthand for dread. My palms were sweaty as the dentist clipped the bib to my neck and pulled the light in closer to my face. A few pinches, a tired jaw and lots of slobber later, I was done. Far from being something to dread, my root canal was mostly just uncomfortable.
Of course, I can’t speak for everyone. The dentist said people who have infections or an abscess have a worse time in the chair than I did. But considering that my experience was about a 3 on the misery scale, I think it’s time to give the root canal a break, and find a different cultural reference point for dreaded experience.
Mammograms, for example. My most recent one scored a 5 on the misery scale. A shingles outbreak got a sturdy 8, as did my bruised tailbone when I took a tumble down the steps.
Driving in icy weather gets an 9. Swimsuit shopping, a 6. I once sat through a junior production of the musical “Cinderella”; That was more trying than my root canal.
As my dentist looked at my medical chart, she noted that I’d undergone surgery, chemotherapy and radiation some years ago.
“You’ve been through much worse,” she said. And that’s true – my own life experience may skew my reaction to dental procedures and may have increased my pain tolerance in general. But I still have to put my head between my knees when having blood drawn, so it’s not like my cancer experience has turned me into a Navy Seal or anything.
I once dated a guy who used the root canal comparison all the time. He would say, “I’d rather have nine root canals in one day than to watch a volleyball game.” I heard that often enough that I conjured an image of drills and tiny shovels hacking away at my jawbone. In my mind’s ear, the whole thing had a shrieking, whirring sound.
I wore a headset and listened to music during my root canal. The worst of it was keeping my mouth open for long minutes at a time. Oh, and not being able to chew on that side for the rest of the day, but I hadn’t been able to chew over there for months, anyway.
If I wanted to fall into hyperbole, I could add to my list of things “worse” than a root canal: meatloaf, bologna sandwiches, most sitcoms and superhero movies, ironing, pantyhose. Oh, and early in my career, I would get my hair highlighted the old way; the stylist put this rubber cap over my head and used a crochet hook to pull the strands of hair through. That was far more painful than the root canal – an 11 on my misery scale.
Today is Black Friday. Many of you will join the festivities of shopping and buying. I will be sitting here at home, enjoying a pain-free cup of hot coffee, avoiding the holiday rush. All that traffic and the crowds and the piped-in Christmas music?
I’d rather have a root canal.