My root canal saga

Does anyone else HATE root canals? It’s the dental procedure that strikes fear into the hearts of even the bravest souls. But for me, it's become a bizarre rite of passage, a recurring event in my life that will go down in dental history. Here I am, staring down the barrel of my fifth root canal, and let me tell you, it’s starting to feel like a bizarre dental Groundhog Day. Get ready for Snapchats of my numb-half grins and the sound of drills within the next month or so.

Let’s rewind a bit. Picture this: a sunny day hanging out with my friends at Waimea Bay blissfully unaware that yet another toothache is lurking around the corner. Me and my friend Amber stand on the rock growing the balls to jump and once we did we felt great. Before heading back to school I had a dentist appointment and through some x-rays, they asked me if I got hit in the face. I told them that I did not do anything physical. Well come to find out, I landed in the water wrong and ended up cracking my root. You see, I've come to accept that my teeth have a vendetta against me. They’re like mischievous little gremlins plotting their next attack, and I, unfortunately, am their favorite target. That’s were the chain began.

Now, I like to think of myself as a seasoned root canal veteran. I’ve been through the drill (pun totally intended) more times than I care to admit. Each time, I tell myself, “This will be the last one,” only to find myself back in the dentist’s chair, holding onto dear life as they work their magic—or should I say, their torture devices?

But hey, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right? In my case, if life gives you root canals, make tooth fairy jokes. I’ve become somewhat of a connoisseur in the art of finding humor in the most unlikely of places. I mean, who else can boast about having a collection of dental x-rays that rivals a modern art gallery?

And let’s not forget the perks of being a frequent flyer at the dentist’s office. I practically have my own VIP lounge by now. The receptionist back home greets me with a sympathetic smile, the dental hygienist knows me by name, and the dentist—well, let’s just say we’re on a first-name basis at this point. They are listed under my favorites in my contacts.

But in all seriousness, while my dental misadventures may provide endless material for comedy, they’ve also taught me a thing or two about resilience. You see, every time I find myself facing another root canal, I’m reminded of just how resilient the human spirit can be. Despite the pain, the discomfort, and the endless trips to the dentist, I always emerge on the other side with a smile—albeit a slightly lopsided one, thanks to the numbing agents.

So here I am, gearing up for yet another round of dental warfare, armed with nothing but my trusty sense of humor and a healthy dose of dental floss. Any one who knows me knows I love to floss because I hate food between my teeth. Will this be the last root canal? Who knows. But one thing’s for sure: as long as there are teeth to be saved and jokes to be made, I’ll be here, ready to face whatever comes my way—root canals and all.