How A Dentist Ruined my Holiday

In less than a week's time, I will be heading to Ontario (by plane). I will spend two weeks there visiting family and watching both of my Ontario-based grandchildren graduate from their respective schools. When that is all done, I will get on a train to Winnipeg and then hitchhike back to the island. It is not much of a trip, a far cry from those days when I hitched from Sudbury to the West Coast and then back again, or when I crossed the country twice in one year or when I included a stop in Yellowknife on my west. I think I may be getting just a little bit too old for all of the excitement of hitchhiking - or more likely my body is starting to fall apart. However, no matter how short my trip is - I should be a lot more excited.

For the past 17-18 years or so, I have hitchhiked long distances. In every one of those years I started to dream of travelling along the roads, the spots I would stop at, what my drivers would be like in late January or early February. Every year I was consumed by the desire to just get out on the road and travel. Every year except for this year. It is not that I have not, on occasion, found myself drifting into some fantasy about the open road because I have. But the dreams, whether I have been awake or not, have been much shorter, much less exciting.

There is no doubt that my concern about my ageing body and whether or not I can abuse it one more time is part of the diminished anticipation. There are some bloody long hills that I will have to climb to get to a good spot, and every year those high steps into a truckers' cab feel just a little bit more impossible to get up. For the first time, I have a little nagging sense of fear. But the real reason why, in the past month or so that my excitement has not grown to an almost unbearable pitch is my dentist.

I do not like dentists. They cause pain, they cost money while they, along with their staff, pretend to be nice people - why they bother asking me how I am when I arrive at the office is beyond me. How do they expect me to feel? I am at a bloody dentist office!!

A month or so ago I was experiencing some discomfort (to use the medical term - actually it hurt a lot). The doctor told me that I had an infected root and that there was little hope of saving the tooth. I needed to get it extracted. I did so a few days later.

Two weeks ago I went back to the dentist for a more thorough check-up and was told that I had two more teeth that were infected and that I needed to go see a specialist. I went yesterday and he suggested that the teeth could not be saved and needed to be pulled. It is worthy to note that all three of the teeth had had a root canal and a crown. Thousands of dollars wasted. Hours of discomfort and even more hours worrying about the procedures, the needles etc etc.

I have spent the last 4-5 weeks not sleeping well, in a state of dread and fear. It is hard to focus on anything else when I know that some stranger, along with his assistant is going to be jabbing me with sharp things, making my face feel all weird for hours afterwards and leaving two gaping holes in my mouth - won't that be an attractive sight? And while they are doing this, experimenting with how many implements of torture they can fit into my mouth, along of course, with their four hands - they will chat back and forth to each other about their weekend or their kids. Every once in a while they will ask me if I am okay. Of course, if I am not they will continue to work away.

I will not be getting those two teeth pulled until I get back....but even if they never hurt - I will not be able to forget what will happen when I return. Thank you doctor for messing up my holiday plans......