The bad tooth fairy delivered a toothache this week. I measured the pain and diagnosed a root canal. I named it Trifecta—broken shoulder, broken pelvis and a root canal—Jules’ January Trifecta. (I left out the laceration to the bone on my shin because quadfecta sounded too creepy.)
I called my dentist. His receptionist said he was on vacation. Okay, it’s January—bet he’s sipping something from a coconut somewhere close to the equator.
What to do? I referred myself to the endodontist who did RJ’s root canal.
I saw Brad Newberry on Thursday. We’re not dating or anything. That would be silly—my shoulder and pelvis are still broken. The initials D.D.S, M.S. follow Brad’s name. The only thing following me is the damn cane.
Doctor Brad, the doctor who graduated at the top of his class, announced my tooth already had a root canal. The other endodontist, who graduated at the bottom of his class, didn’t perform the root canal correctly. He left the lower half of the roots; a big no-no.
Doctor Brad delivered the bad news. I have a large abscess over, under, beside, next to and <insert preposition> the roots. It’s threatening my jawbone.
A full bore attack—surgery—is required. I will be out of commission seven to ten days. The first three will be the most painful. I’ll have stitches and may lose the tooth. My jaw bone will regenerate but my face will be swollen and black and blue for a couple weeks. I’ll look like someone punched me in the face and…
I tuned out and walked out of the office.
Are you kidding? Surgery? Now?
No, no, no, no. This was supposed to be a root canal. The fall was enough for one month. Enough for one life.
(Forgo niceties; insert fucking before kidding, fall and life.)
Exactly how bad was I in my other lives? Bet I enjoyed them.
Causes Jules Jacob Supports
CASA of Southwest Missouri, Master Gardeners of the Ozarks, University of Missouri Master Gardeners, Missouri Court Appointed Special Advocates Association...