Fit for a Queen

Smiles by Stevens, Visit #4:  The Coronation  

Appointment with Dr. Shea Stevens, DMD.

Today was my final visit (crosses fingers) with Dr. Stevens.  And nothing against my 31 year old dental/mental miracle worker, but I'm hoping the next time I see him will only be in passing - after my newly "routine," 6 month cleaning with Tina.

During Visit #3, we embarked on a mission to excavate a damaged and badly decayed molar.  We hollowed out the filling, scraped away the decay, and exposed the remainder of the unaffected tooth - though little but the root remained.  And don't underestimate the strength of a root.  It's deep-seated, steadfast, unwavering.  Roots are like soldiers.  They dig in, anchor down, and refuse to let go.  It's rare for a root to crack - and I was happy to learn that mine had been able to withstand the pressure.  In all honesty, I wasn't quite sure they were capable of holding up.

Had I needed a Root Canal, I would have accepted it.  Doc Stevens explained that they simply extract the nerve pulp from the root, seal it off, and the pain is gone.  But imagining that process is painful in itself.  The vision of the nerves, clinging to their roots, fighting to stay entrenched in the comfort zone they've come to know as home.  And what then?  When the pulp is removed and dies off, the root is filled and sealed.  The pain is gone, but what remains?  The root has nothing left to fight for.

Maybe this procedure is genius in the dental world.  Root Canal = Instant Pain Relief.  The tooth keeps on chewing, goes on functioning, nothing is lost.  But what about a mental root canal?  What happens when the pain that plagues us is so deep that it lives in the very pulp within our roots?  What happens when that vulnerable pulp is who we are?  We can't extract it, and move on.  We can't seal it off, and continue to chew on life's lessons.  Close that off, and we cease to function.

And let's face it - everyone needs a little anesthetic once in a while.  People choose different ways to fill their voids, to shut out the noise, to numb the sensations when they get to be too much.  No one has infallible roots; no one gets by without a little self-protection.  And when do we fall into the trap?  When does self-protection become too isolating?  When does protection start extracting the pulp, and sealing us off?  When do these anesthetizing habits become debilitating, and force us into a life of going through the motions?  Chew, chew, chew.....

And the truth is, it's a fine line.  And it's a blurry line.  I'm not sure we recognize the point when self-love turns to numbing out, to avoidance, to negating the self.  I think we have the best intentions.  We're just trying to be soldiers, rooted and honorable and true to ourselves.  We're just trying to do the best we can.  And I think there comes a point when we recognize that we aren't going about things the right way - that the defense mechanisms we've built for ourselves are closing in around us.  I think we're befuddled when our choices seem to backfire, when our coping agents turn around and attack us.  We're disarmed, and we don't quite know how to fight back.

We lean back on our roots.  We hope they're strong enough and capable enough to withstand the pressure.  So, I went to Dr. Stevens today, proud of my roots, and ready to be crowned.  I went, anxious to shed the temporary casing - grateful for the perfectly molded fortress coming my way.  In 30 minutes, the temp was gone, the future was in place, and I felt like me again - whole and safe and protected - roots and pulp still intact.

And as I bit down on some gauze, cementing the crown, Doc Stevens gave me some solid advice:  Don't eat for an hour.  Rinse with salt water.  Gradually reintroduce chewing.  Don't eat caramel, taffy or anything tacky.  When you floss, pull through - not up and down.  In essence, go easy on the crown.  It's permanent, it's solid, it's built for protection.  The crown will do it's job - but don't make that job harder.  Leave room for a little weakness.  Don't invite unrest.  When rehabilitation is working it's magic, sit back and watch it take shape.  Don't question the illusion, don't poke holes in the beauty, don't break it down.  When you're healing, dentally and mentally, go easy on yourself.  Don't move too fast.  Don't bite off more than you can chew.  Don't test yourself.  Trust the process.  Trust your roots.  They're stronger than you think, and they'll fight for you.

- L.