Well, after dentist appointment #4, I have a little dentist trauma to deal with. Now that the local has worn off, my face hurts and I'm a little upset. I don't know how much more of this I can take. But I have one more appointment scheduled. So that will be four sessions on this one fucking suprise root canal. Today we filled the canals (3 of them, no less). We attempted it without local today, but one good jab in the hole with the pokey thing and I shrieked in agony, and the dentist decided we needed local. He doesn't understand why it hurts as much as it does. I try to be brave, but mostly, there's some crying.
The tears just sort of roll down my cheek and into my hairline (because I'm upside down, flat on my back in the chair), and then the snot sort of trickles down inside my throat and makes me cough. And big, long strings of cry-saliva attach themselves to the dentist's rubber gloves as he reaches for another pointy thing, and then flick off to slap my chin. As he rubs his rubbery fingers around inside my mouth, the cry-saliva - sort of thicker and goobier than normal, watery saliva - adds a new layer of interest to the whole experience, and I can't help but think about vaginas. And how your vaginal mucous changes when you're ovulating. So I can't help but associate this whole thing with hot sex.
So, you know, this surprise root canal experience has had repercussions we are yet to enjoy.
Beyond the delight of post-probing jaw pain, impending (massive) debt and disturbing thoughts about bodily secretions, all this dental work has at least given me an excuse to see a fair few films. Word Play = good stuff.