Well, I have been writing frantically lately–ten pages a day because that is what it is going to take to meet my deadline–and so I have been a little distracted.

Out of touch, you might say.

And so it was that a few days ago I looked up from my typing and thought, “Yikes! What is that horrible sensation in my mouth when I drink iced tea?” I wrote three more pages, and then it came to me. “Ohhh, yesss…it is That Tooth again.”

The dreaded tooth.

I have a molar, you see, that hates me. I have given it everything except a root canal–I have babied it throughout the years, protected it from hot and cold foods, spent thousands of dollars to have it lovingly restored, and yet it still hates me and every now and then throws tantrums.

Last summer, though, despite being scared of dentists and all of their sharp instruments and the way they work on a part of your body that is so close to your brains and which every now and then they stick with needles, I took this tooth to the dentist and I said to him, “Do whatever this tooth says to do, and send  me the bill.”

The good news is that the tooth did not seem to want a root canal, but it did want a crown. I mean, who doesn’t want a crown? So I suffered through two, possibly three, dental visits (I’m blocking them out) during which I sat with my mouth propped open, next to the plate glass window, during two thunderstorms that threatened to spawn life-destroying tornadoes, bargaining with God for my survival–and my tooth was crowned.

When we got to the final installment, the dentist said to me, “There’s just one little thing. I’m going to put temporary glue on this crown, just in case this tooth wants a root canal in the next three months. You’ll know if it does. But if the tooth feels fine, then come back and I’ll gladly put in the permanent glue, and all will be well.”

Dear reader, I did not go back. My tooth felt fine, and believe me, I am not stupid enough to want to wake up a sleeping tooth and mess with it.

But then the other day…tooth pain. Later that night: tooth pain. Next morning: that’s right. Tooth pain. In the days that have followed: pain sometimes, no pain other times. Enough to drive a dental phobic mad.

But then I was reading “O” magazine, an article written by life coach Martha Beck in which one of the five pieces of advice she gives is this: “A little pain never hurt anybody.” And I thought, Huh! What an interesting idea. Here, I have been avoiding pain my whole life, actually contemplating the most pain-free choices I could make–and then it turns out that it’s okay to be hurt. She actually told a story about going to the dentist and thinking how pain didn’t matter, and that when he jabbed the needle into her gum, it felt like a tiny little deep tissue massage.

I mean, I’m not totally buying that. But I did realize that this Totally Pain Free Existence I was seeking could be leading me astray. And so today, first thing this morning I called up my dentist and asked to speak to him.

He couldn’t come to the phone. So I bravely made an appointment with him for tomorrow morning. Tiny little deep tissue massage…tiny little deep tissue massage…not pain, not pain.

At 3 p.m., I called and canceled the appointment. As much as I am craving a chance to prove that I can handle a tiny little deep tissue massage, I am clearly too busy to go to the dentist! I have a deadline to meet! I will go to the dentist…another time. When I’m not so busy. Meanwhile, I shall embrace the pain I am now in.

At 5 p.m., the dentist called me. I had forgotten that I had left him a message. There he was. What, he wanted to know, was going on?

I took a deep breath and reminded him about the crown, the temporary glue, the doubt about a root canal, my failure to come back to get the permanent glue, (”How can one ever really, really be sure one is ready for the permanent anything?” I asked him, and he did not have an answer.) I babbled on for quite some time, and then when I ran down, he said:

“Sandi. The temporary glue breaks down after a few months. That is why your tooth is hurting because the crown is slipping. Why don’t you jsut come into the office, and we can either put MORE temporary glue on, or we can put the permanent glue on? That’s all. Why don’t you come tomorrow? I’ll put the secretary back on…”

“Wait!” I said. “Is it going to…hurt?”

Because I am totally ready if it does. I know that a little pain never hurt anybody.

He sighed and said, “No, it won’t hurt.”

But that’s what they always say.