I had an amazing, joyful experience at the dentist this morning. Yes, the dentist! I had a severe toothache last week, the kind where chewing was impossible and tears were close by. My dentist was on holiday, of course, but her partner checked me out. A week of antibiotics took care of the pain, but he said I would need a dreaded root canal procedure.
My dentist, this morning, agreed. A root canal seemed better than losing the tooth. She said it usually takes five to eight minutes, would all be over before I blinked. After much more than ten minutes she said she was having a hard time finding the root of the problem (so to speak). With age, nerves become smaller and calcify. She said she might have to refer me to a specialist. With a mouth full of dental equipment, I mumbled uh uh (i.e., no, no).
So, as I sat there with instruments searching the tooth, I started to meditate. And I kept telling her (silently) “You will do it, you can do it, keep going, almost there,” etc. Then, after forty-five minutes, she said she did it!
I told her I helped.
She said “I know.”