So much fun, right? Who doesn’t love a nice root canal now and then? Well, maybe it;s not the most pleasant way to pass the time, but it sure beats the hell out of an infected broken tooth that flares up into incredible pain whenever you get on an airplane. Which I tend to do a lot. (Aside: It’s a good thing I don’t have kids or a car and that I recycle diligently, because all the flying I do eats up all my carbon offset points.)
Having a root canal was a lot more pleasant with Teen Dentist back at the NYU Dental School than it is with the NHS. There, you get discounted versions of thorough, cutting-edge dental treatment performed by eager, cute (and thankfully smart and capable) youngsters. Here, my dentist sees me for 20 minutes and explains exactly what corners are cut if you pay NHS fees instead of the exorbitant private-practice fees, and then leave you to ponder how much you;re willing to pay for your vanity. It’s grim.
(And since I am employed but poor, I’m in that uncomfortable middle-range where I still have to pay but can only afford ghetto treatment. Be sure to ignore my silver molar next time you see me, or I’ll cry.)