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"Why is it that when people want to avoid something," I asked my dentist, "they always say, 'I'd rather have a root canal than {fill in the blank}?'" "Years ago it was tough," he responded. "But these days it's like getting a tooth filled." Oh, yeah, I thought, and I suppose you believe in the Tooth Fairy.

Dr. G had just told me I needed to have my first root canal. The procedure is a cliché substitute for the word "pain." I had to sink my teeth into the whole idea.

He referred me to an endodontist. I often wonder what compels a person to choose a certain specialty in the medical world. Proctology comes to mind, also podiatry. Endodontics is another. Endodontists specialize in the study and treatment of dental pulp. Does someone dream about this in childhood or become inspired while flossing? "Dr. S is very good," Dr. G assured me. "She'll take care of you."

I made an appointment with Dr. S for the following week at 8 a.m. I was hoping to get it over with before I woke up. As I waited for the dreaded day, I tried to shut out the noise of other people's monologues about their root canals, all horror stories. Nothing inspires confidence like the look of terror on someone's face when you tell her that a root canal looms over your horizon.

The day came. I arrived at Dr. S's office and was escorted to The Chair. As I was lowered into a comfy upside down position, I announced, "I usually need at least twice the normal amount of Novocain." This is actually true. I have to get at least a couple of shots before I'm numb. Then I walk around the rest of the day looking like I've had a stroke.

"Are you anxious?" asked Dr. S. Why lie? "Yes," I admitted, cowardly but unashamed. She proceeded to apply something to my gum to unsuccessfully make the Novocain shot less painful, then shot away. A few minutes later she asked, "Is it getting numb?" "Not really." She tested the tooth with a piece of ice, which I could definitely feel. She gave me a second shot and allowed time for numbing. Then more ice. Which I could still feel. A third shot, ditto. A fourth shot, an encore performance. "Is your lip numb?" she asked, disappointed. "A little," I said, "but I can feel the ice." And I was seeing double, a whole new experience for me.

Dr. S. called it a day. She speculated that the tooth was infected and inflamed. Perhaps we could have ascertained that earlier, I thought. She wrote out prescriptions, including Amoxicillin and Valium, the latter to be taken an hour before the procedure. I was afraid to drive so I called a friend to pick me up.

For the next couple of weeks my jaw hurt where the four shots had bulls-eyed my gum. Dr. S's office left a message about rescheduling. I waited a while before responding.

Returning once again to The Chair a few weeks later, I mentioned that the shot spot in my mouth still hurt. "Hmmm," said Dr. S.," maybe we should wait a while. I'll write out another prescription in case it's still infected." Oh well, the Valium had proven useless anyway. We made yet another appointment. So the morning wouldn't be a total loss, I wandered over to a nearby Chico's and picked up some great bargains.

Back in The Chair two weeks and two prescriptions later, I was really feeling the Valium this time. At least something was working. After a few more shots and the comment that she'd never seen a tooth like this - a very encouraging remark indeed - Dr. S. got down to work to root out whatever needed to be rooted.

There followed some drilling, scraping and picking. And before you could say "How good is your dental insurance?" it was over. I assumed this was just Part I. "You're all set," announced the assistant. "That's it?" I asked, surprised. "I've had a root canal?" I'd spent more than a month dreading this, and it turns out that having my gum pierced was the worst part.

There is the matter of four follow-up appointments with my dentist, but that should be a piece of cake.

"This is the way the world ends," wrote T.S. Eliot, "Not with a bang but with a whimper." And so my adventure in dental pulp. Now I get to tell everyone my horror story.

- Ann Green

Ann Green is a freelance writer, editor, PR consultant and tutor.