For a few months I’ve been feeling a rough edged divot in a bottom molar. I figured I’d lost a filling. No pain, just a hole. I decided to get it looked at and went to Los Algodones, Mexico, hot spot for low cost dentistry.
Yes, I’d lost part of a filling. But I’d also lost a piece of tooth. That meant a crown. And that meant root canal. Hurray.
But first teeth cleaning. Then some prep work by one dentist, including a couple of shots of anesthetic. Then off to the dental surgeon, the guy whose name is on the door. He shot me up with more anesthetic after I said, “AAAAGH!” as he drilled on my tooth. Then he injected some more when I said, “AAAAGH!” again. And more when he caught me wincing. Yo soy un wimp. But I got through it.
Bernardo, agent of the Inquisition.
No, he was actually a nice guy.
Then it was back to the first dentist for shaping of a temporary crown. By now I’d had my jaw wide open for about four hours. My muscles ached, which was odd considering I couldn’t feel half my head.
So, I go back in three days to get a permanent crown. In the meantime I’ll boondock at a casino just on the US side of the border, next to all the others getting cheap teeth, eyeglasses and medications.
Oh, and because of the music playing during my root canal, I can never again love Bing Crosby’s Christmas album.