You are invited to an end-of-summer barbecue in honor of nothing in particular, although the arrival of Melissa's parents, and any August or September birthdays (mine, Fuzzy's) may be acknowledged.

*We* will provide food and drinks, and requests will be taken into consideration.

Who: Melissa & Chris Bartell
When: Sunday August 31st, beginning at 4:30 PM. Yes, this is the day before Labor Day.
Where: Casa Bartell: 440 Halsey Avenue, San Jose, CA
Contact: Melissa: Ofc: 408-557-9880 x204, Res: 408-279-8507, Email: OR leave a message HERE.
Bring: Yourself. Your appetite. A guest or two, as long as I know in advance how many people are coming. And extra lawn chairs if you have them.

Kids and well-behaved dogs are welcome.
Smoking is NOT.

Yes, this is a change from the originally scheduled date of 08/24, caused by the afore-mentioned parents changing their schedules.

Endodontists Should Be Exterminated

My root canal wasn't completed this morning. And it's partly my fault, but I'm so mad that I really don't care that it's partly my fault.

I should backtrack.
Every cousin in my generation has some kind of congenital cranial/facial birth defect. Nicky and Cathy both had cleft palates, for example, and Lisa had the cleft palate-hare lip combination. I was lucky. My soft palate is thinner than it should be, but it's connected at least. Although, like all my cousins, I have serious ear/nose/throat issues – I had tubes put in my ears as a toddler, and even when I don't have a cold, my sinuses drain backwards, causing post-nasal drip. So, I have to swallow a LOT, because there's a lot of pressure on my soft palate. If I don't swallow, I feel like I'm choking. It also means that I CANNOT DEAL with pressure on the roof of my mouth. I gag and panic.

Now, I inform every dental professional of this before any procedure starts. Most work with me- taking breaks, letting ME control the suction thing, letting me have water if I need it. Some even go so far as to spray novocaine on the roof of my mouth so I can't FEEL the pressure. This works wonders.

When I went for the emergency root canal a couple weeks ago, I was in so much pain that I couldn't talk. Then, as you may remember, they gave me a buncha drugs and said, “Come back on Monday,” and I did. But at that point, while the pain was muted, I was also addled by codeine and not sleeping well. So while I know I told them I had issues, I'm not sure I impressed this upon them with enough force. In any case, they did MOST of the procedure that day, but as it was an emergency, and they literally only had an hour, they sent me home, with a prescription for valium and orders to take it the night before and the morning of the next appointment. To take the edge off. I did this.

I've had valium exactly once before in my life: The day I had my LASIK done. Again, it was to take the edge off, and it seemed to be fine. I wasn't nervous or anything.

So I took valium last night. And I took valium this morning, with an antihistamine to help dry out my sinuses. And I went to the endodontist for Root Canal Part II. And while I asked them to take breaks with me, they didn't respond, just said, “You took the valium, right?”

So they started, and I was doing okay. Not great, but okay. Except that they were having a conversation about the assistant's kids while working, which irritated me to no end. And then they decided to do another x-ray without removing the dental dam. That much STUFF (the dam, the ring holding it onto my tooth, the files in the tooth, and the xray tab) were too much for me. I told them I needed a break (or tried to) and they kept sticking stuff in my mouth. So, of course I started choking and they took out the dental dam, and chastised me for ripping it. (Hello? It's a three-cent piece of rubber. I hardly think it's a major expense). They put the new one in, but I still couldn't talk or swallow, because I still had metal rods in the center of my tooth. And tried again, and of course, the same thing happened. I managed to convey the command STOP. And they pulled everything out of my mouth, rather roughly.

“You need to deal,” I was told. “It's a back tooth, it's difficult.” I informed them that I'd had the same tooth done on the other side, with far less drama, and the doctor got insulted. Then he said, “There's an oral surgeon across the complex. Why don't you go over there and have him just remove the tooth. Shall I call him? Because I'm sure you're usually a very nice person, but you clearly can't handle minor annoyances.”

I ask you: would anyone in their right mind make a decision while pumped up on narcotics?

I said, “No. I'm leaving. I want a copy of my original xray.”

They handed it over. I left. I called the dentist who'd sent me to this guy and left a LONG message, and then I went to work, and tried to hold myself together while still feeling all fragile and pissy and druggy.

The guys brought me a pineapple energy blend with protein powder, and birthday flowers from my mom arrived, and our main lender was down because of computer problems /anyway/, so work was bearable, at least.

And yeah, I'm a pathetic wuss, but I'm a pissed off pathetic wuss. And I'm taking tomorrow off, because I need a day of me-time.

Oh, and apologies to any LJers who also read my blog feed. I'm cross posting this to get it out of my system.