Reality

The glow of Christmas and New Year's and the bowl games are gone. Lois took down the outside decorations during the record-setting warmth. (What global warming? ) We went back to work in the mines and life took on a patina of dullness interrupted by my aching mouth.

Dr. Gresham is a kindly man and I would never have another dentist. His sense of humor takes out the fear of the trauma that will ensue inside my mouth. He is one dentist treating about ten patients at a time and he barks out, "Gas is 3b! I need x-rays on 2a. Come on, come on, lets's keep it moving!" Usually there are dental assistants running from cubicle to cubicle and there is an air of excitement, urgency. Today it is subdued, being the day after Christmas and the clinic is closed. Dr. G. takes emergencies like mine for which I am deeply grateful. Actually I am one of a handful of hurting patients today.

Dr. G. shook hands with me as he set upon relieving my pain, a pain which made life miserable and kept me from being myself. His usually compassionate face was tense as he peered into my mouth. He gave me three shots at the point where my jaw hinges to my skull and looked down at me after he had finished.
"If I'm a little short with you today please forgive me. Damned kidney stones are killing me."

"I understand," I said through my own fog of pain. Dr. G. left me to treat other patients while the Novocaine took effect. There were usually patients in every cubicle but not today. It was the day after Christmas and the clinic was closed. He didn't have to be here, especially when he swimming upstream against his own pain. I said a silent prayer for him.

I took a book along for distraction but found it difficult to concentrate. I went through the motions anyway as the pain ebbed. I listened to the activity in the other cubicles, short, to-the-point exchanges they were. The joy was not in Doctor's voice as it usually is. I heard him drill and that sound does not strike terror in my psyche.  I estimated that the other people were hurting worse than I was but that was of no comfort.

After 10 pages of  Moby Dick  Dr. G. reappeared. The assistant put the gas mask in place and he reassured me, "Let me know if I'm hurting you. You don't have to tough it out. That's why we have Novocaine."

Dr. G. is compassionate but a realist. "The problem is an abscess, caused by a dying nerve. I'll need to drill through your bridge and do a root canal. ."  (It turned out to be two root canals.)

I heard the drill whine and I felt the vibrations as I tried to focus on one point of light. then I thought of Euler's limit definition of the constant e. I tried to hear music that I love or think of  or things that I need to do. I looked at Dr. G.'s face and saw a mixture of pain,  concentration and determination. My concern for him was interrupted. The jolt was exquisite and it must have registered facially. He stopped drilling and held out his gloved hand to the assistant and she handed him a syringe. Three more shots to the hinge of my mouth.

More Moby Dick. My nose itched but I couldn't feel that I was scratching it.since the realm of numbness had expanded.  More torture of reading the introduction to Moby Dick. Why do I read introductions? They are usually verbose and numbing, but then that's what I needed. I read about Herman Melville's literary failures and how he turned to satire of the literary critics. and wrestled with poverty and debt. The book fell into my chest and I welcomed the warm blanket of sleep.

Four hours had elapsed since the waiting room. It was dark and I was hungry but it would be hours before I could eat. I made an appointment for three days later as the abscessed area would have to be purged of infection. In the meantime a prescription for pain and an antibiotic.

It was snowing as I trudged homeward and I thought that I am lucky to have such a caring dentist with a gentle and supportive staff. Thank you, Doctor Gresham.