Scariest words in the English language: "root, canal."

Followed closely by "over seven hundred dollars."

Also...I hope I never have to be told "you can do option A [for way more money than I can afford] or option B [which will cost even more money later]."

And here's my advice to dentists everywhere. If there is an option C, do not wait until your client has agonized over options A and B and is nigh unto a total breakdown to inform said client of option C. It's mean.

/rant

Anyway...the dentist went [as] well [as possible]. I almost had to get a root canal or say goodbye to my tooth altogether. But at the last minute the dentist suddenly remembered another option, which was to drill, see if the decay wasn't too close to the nerve after all, and fill if possible. Lucky for me the decay wasn't too close to the nerve after all and it was indeed possible to do a filling. And we made it out of the office without giving up an arm, a leg, nor our firstborn. At the moment I'm reflecting upon the experience while waiting for the feeling to come back to the right side of my mouth (it's slowly coming back, and the feeling is "oowwww!").

Bear got to play Nintendo Game Cube in the waiting room. Lucy got to take a nap.

Mama got needles in her mouth and a drill in her tooth.

Aren't I lucky?*

*Well, yes, actually. I am lucky. I didn't need a root canal or tooth extraction. But I'm going for pity here. Pity me. Pity poor little me and my "traumatic" experience.