*Contrary to how the first paragraph may appear, this is not going to be a post of complaint, I promise.
Last week, I had the toothache from hell. No, really. Like, fire and brimstone heat I could feel beating like a heartbeat in one tiny spot in my mouth, and up into my head. So I went to my dentist, because I just knew he could fix this awful pain.
I mean, he’s my dentist. Teeth are his thing. And we go to him because he’s good. But within minutes of relaxing back into the chair (practically begging him to do a root canal or whatever), he shook his head, “I’m going to refer you to an endodontist who is better qualified to treat this problem.”
Wait. What? Back up the truck. You’re sending me where? And more importantly, it means I have to make it through another night of pain? Okay, so in his defense, he gave me some meds and an antibiotic, and encouraged me to tell the staff at the other office how bad it hurt so they’d rush me in. But still. I wasn’t feeling so happy just then.
That night, I actually dreamed I DIED of an infected tooth.
Two appointments (and days) later, I dragged my shaky self to the specialists office, where I was shocked and amazed. They lay me back in the cushiest dentist’s chair ever, with butter-soft leather and a neck pillow at just the right height, and offered me an iPod with sound eliminating headphones, numbed me up, and then…
I took a sort-of nap (a real one, not the drug-induced kind). Then I was done.
That was it? All it took to fix something that had felt like such a huge, daunting problem? A freaking nap? (Well, and lots of money, but we won’t go there.)
And yes, it’s fixed. I was told that I could expect to be pretty sore for the next two weeks, that my pain might get worse before it gets better and blah blah blah. Truth: it’s better. So. Much. Better. Still a little sore, but not as bad as I expected.
Because even though my dentist is good, he knew I needed to see someone else for that one particular problem, and he wanted me to have the best care possible.
How often do we do that in life? We do something expecting it to turn out one way, but then it doesn’t. We complain and moan, and whine a bit, and then are shocked and amazed when we discover that we are now much better off than we would’ve been had things happened our way in the first place. Yep. That’s me this week.
And I can’t tell you how glad I am. Is it just me, or does stuff like this happen to you often too?