I woke up today fearing that I would have a lot of pre-chemo day anxiety, in addition to worrying about my 24 year old daughter having a tonsillectomy. (She did great, btw.) You can imagine my surprise when I woke up with a toothache. I wasn’t even going to mention it to my doc during my pre-chemo-day check-in, but they made such a big deal about not having dental work during chemotherapy, I figured I better. Well, my friends, that started a whole avalanche of sh*t, including a dentist appointment 30-minutes later, followed by an emergency root canal with a dental surgeon late this afternoon. Maybe the only two word phrase I hate more than ‘breast cancer’ is ‘root canal.’
Considering that they had to totally knock me out just to get my teeth CLEANED, and before today, I have never been in a dentist chair without being hooked to a tank of nitrous, it’s quite amazing what you can do when you’re stuck between a tooth and a hard place, or when push comes to “pushed over the edge of the cliff.”
And I hate to talk out of the other side of my mouth, but frankly, I’m just happy that my treatment tomorrow gets to stay on schedule.