I'm a super-freakin-hero

I went to the dentist today to have a new crown seated. I had the prep a few weeks ago and have been living with the temporary one in anticipation of this glorious day. The first thing the nice hygienist woman asked me is if I wanted to be numbed up. Remember this day ? Of course, if it's not gonna hurt, I don't want the numby juice. SO...in my statistical, analytical nature, I asked her what people usually say when she asks that and she responded, "It's about 50/50." And I figure I have a higher than normal tolerance for discomfort so I'll be cool through it if really 50 whole percent of people don't die without it.

So she placed the metal forceps on my temporary crown to remove it and I broke out into a sweat. I felt a little moan of pain escape my throat...although it couldn't be a full fledged growl due to the huge metal tools in my mouth yanking my teeth out. Just as I was about to side-swipe her arm out of my mouth and DEMAND numby stuff, the temporary came out and, of course, I said, "Now that wasn't toooooo bad." Ha ha....I'm a super-hero.

Well then, the new crown had to be put in. They told me that I would have a little "cold sensitivity" once the cement hit the primed crown stump in my mouth (read-exposed nerves). After messing with it for a few minutes, they plopped that crowny-poo in my mouth and I swear I felt my forehead against the ceiling. Cold-sensitivity-my-butt! We are talking full fledged sticking an ice pick through my gums and into my brain. After I floated down from the ceiling, I was ok but... I'm a super hero.

My point: if a hygienist in cute urbane scrubs with Texas hair (in Alabama) asks you if you want to be numbed, tell her to make it a double.