Root canals ain't so bad. Particularly when your dentist senses your apprenhension and hears your jaw pop like a 4th of July firecracker and realizes that holding your jaw open for 2 hours might be a problem. For when my dentist took note of these things, he decided laughing gas might be in order.
The tech asked before she put the nitrous mask on,
"Are you a drinker?"
Hahahaha! That's like asking if Miss America wears makeup.
With the assurance that I would shortly feel like I'd had two beers and wouldn't care what was going on in my mouth, I felt no worries and two hours later I wandered out with the right side of my face feeling like it had been moved to Florida and a new temporary crown holding the place for a new permanent one.
I was offered Vicodin, because there was a lot going on with that tooth and the root canal was pretty deep or extensive or whatever long nasty root canals are, but I decided I have enough vices without walking around on narcotics.
And the best part? A few hours later when I picked Ains up from school and decided to treat us both to a milkshake, the cold and sweet didn't bother my newly unnerved tooth.
Isn't modern dentistry grand?