For many years, I have found it rather helpful when, in times of boredom or unease, to occupy my mind by saying the rosary. So when am waiting in line at the supermarket and not paging through the current edition of People, when I'm caught in traffic and getting annoyed, when I'm standing cheek-to-cheek with a burly biker on the subway - I find it helpful to slip in some "prayer time" if, for no other reason, than to make good use of the time.
Well I had to have a cavity filled yesterday. So, having been loaded up with a good dose of novacaine, I inclined my head back to give the doctor wide berth and access to my chompers.
I believe prayer to be a powerful weapon against the forces of darkness, against the listlessness of traffic, against the awkwardness of crowded buses. I believe prayer to put me into a space of greater receptivity to God and that it connects and places me into communion me with all those whose prayers strain outward from their hearts toward the Holy God. I believe that I am at my best when I am animated by and feel a call to return to prayer.
Alas, I have found one thing that prayer cannot withstand. The chink in prayer's armor that causes all peace, ease, and tranquility to drain from my person leaving me with pain, sadness, and irritation.
The dentist's drill.
She started drilling. I started praying. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. HOLY [Mary should go in here, but the drill hit its mark thereby necessitating a word change].
It seems that I have a pretty darn high tolerance for the novacaine. Really high. Scary high.
Who knew?
Well, the doctor and I do...now.
So yesterday was a pretty sore day. The mega doses of novacaine (or whatever it was, I can't remember) didn't wear off until about 5:30 -- eight hours after my injection. I spent most of the remainder of the day in my room looking at my reflection in the mirror - I now know what I will look like if I ever suffer a stroke.
It's strange because I had a filling done on the other side of my mouth two weeks ago and, although a bit uncomfortable, it was not nearly as bad as yesterday. I do not blame the dentist - I reckon that, in the future, I'll know that it takes a lot to make me numb (what violence on television can't accomplish, novacaine can).
So that's my story about the newly-discovered limits of my prayer. One can do many things with prayer, but having it comfort you while receiving a filling on an insufficient amount of novacaine is probably not one of them.
5 comments:
Oh my. Heartfelt sympathies. I'm currently keeping tooth hell at bay myself with hefty doses of aspirin because my multitasking abilities simply aren't up to the job of offering up redemptive suffering AND getting the day job done at the same time, so I understand most intimately what you've been through!
I agree that there is ample time in the inbetween times to find time for prayer ... even in the dentist chair. I liked your description of what happened as your prayed while the dentist began drilling. An opportunity for a little laugh in the midst of a full morning at work.
I am a Jesuit living and working at Seattle University. I read many Jesuit blogs and enjoy reading yours. Keep up the good work.
Also hoping that your mouth has healed and your not in as much pain today.
Ryyyyaaaaannn! Why did you take down the Charlie the Unicorn post Ryan? Whhyyyyyyyy!
Shun the remover! Shuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnuh!
Ryan - I am with you! On the Rosary and the dentist! Although I am a white knuckler when it comes to the dentist. But I cannot get behing the wheel of my van without starting the Rosary. It brings great comfort. Love Aunt Colleen
OUCH. I have the same trouble--Novocaine does almost nothing. Then I switched dentists: instead of the usual horrid "happy tooth" posters, he has posters of Jimi hendrix, Elvis, and the Abbey Road album cover. He shoots the
Novocaine directly into the back of the jaw which hurts at first, but then the jaw goes COMPLETELY numb. Sometimes even my earlobe went numb with it, but I never felt the drill!
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