#Side Effects of Root Canal

[birchmountsshepparddental]

When dentists are looking to treat infected tooth pulp, they will perform a common dental procedure known as root canal therapy. While modern technologies have revolutionized root canals, the procedure is lengthy and painful. 

When it comes to root canal procedures, dentists will say that there are lots of root canal treatment side–effects that will harm your teeth and gums in the long run. While dentists will discuss the possible side effects, you will need to be careful at the end. 

While the blog post will share possible side–effects of root canal therapy, you will be able to able to consider these impacts on your mouth, teeth, and gums. It is necessary to check out some lesser–known side – effects of root canals from this article.

[what-the-fuck-khr]

pain has veeeeeery suspiciously disappeared from the tooth which makes me veeeeeeeery suspicious bc that’s not good lmfao bc if the pain goes without treatment, it means smth in that tooth has fucking died if I can’t feel anything anymore LMAO. okay if I press hard enough it hurts but it’s nowhere near the sharp ass pain it’s been leading up to this point so! I’m gonna go into that appointment expecting dead nerves and an infection or abscess of some kind. I’m also going in expecting the tooth to get ripped out so! what a day that’s gonna be

[cliniceximus01]

Understanding Root Canal: Why It's Important for Your Oral Health

Experiencing severe tooth pain? It might be time to explore your options for a root canal in Delhi. This treatment helps save damaged teeth and prevent further complications. Clinic Eximus offers insights into why taking care of your dental health is vital. Learn more about preserving your natural smile with modern techniques.

[dissociacrip]

i saw that one disability-related post a while ago about dental care but i can't find it again so i'm gonna mention a few things as a (mild to moderately) mentally & physically disabled person, whose teeth hurt when i eat sweet stuff now + i've had a root canal due to a fall + i'm learning to take care of myself, that may or may not help other folks with their dental routine

note: i am not a dentist & this info is mostly what i've gleaned secondhand from dentists, so yeah, i am not an expert in any capacity

water flossers aren't as effective as regular flossing (doing both is actually what's most effective) but they're better than nothing & helpful in cases where coordination problems or other issues might prevent regular flossing technique (i imagine this also depends on the quality of the water flosser)

if you use one of the plastic pre-made floss picks things, rinse the string off in-between each time you use it to floss one side of a tooth, it's tedious but it mimics moving to a new (clean) part of the thread like you do with regular floss

if you get an automatic toothbrush, get one that does circular rotation rather than just vibrating or whatever, as this mimics the tools they use in a dentist's office + imitates the circular motion you're expected to make with a standard toothbrush (which is also hard with coordination issues), i got one that does this pretty cheap from walmart (it's an oral-b but i forgot the specific type) + it automatically times it for you

if you have white spots on your teeth that are uneven with the shade of the rest of the tooth those are potentially white spot lesions due to demineralization; whitening products can make this worse rather than help it, but some products can help with remineralization such as mi paste topical tooth creme, which contains calcium and phosphate (i have yet to try this myself but it seems to get suggested by a lot of dentists, orthodontists, etc. for white spots on teeth & it's also supposed to help with sensitivity and tooth health in general because the white spots are lesions so it's not purely cosmetic!)

it's advised to not rinse your mouth immediately after brushing as this potentially dilutes & reduces the effects of the flouride (if you use fluoride toothpaste), stuff says to wait at least 15 minutes or so

just giving your teeth a quick scrub (even if it's without toothpaste and just water) is better than not brushing your teeth at all

if you have trouble seeing a dentist for financial reasons, try to see if there are income-based or charity dental services in your area, sometimes dental schools also provide low-cost/free dental care

that's all i can think of for now, i wish i had more advice for people who struggle to be able to brush their teeth at all in general but this is all i got unfortunately :(

additionally - you're not bad, useless, gross, or a failure if you struggle to (or can't) maintain oral hygiene; this stuff is much easier for some people than it is to others & those who take it for granted like to forget that, no one deserves to be mocked or looked down on for being disabled & struggling to/not being able to do """basic""" stuff like this!

[elodieunderglass]

Why do you hate piloting narrowboats?

“To steer a narrowboat you stand on the back, look forward along the roof, and grip between your buttocks a brass broom-handle which is bolted to the rudder. Every ripple strikes to the roots of your teeth. A moment’s inattention and sixteen tons of steel and crockery smash into the scenery. If you hit another narrowboat you bounce off, and if you hit a fibreglass cruiser you pass through it, making practically no noise at all.”— Narrow Dog To Carcassonne, by Terry Darlington

“A narrowboat tiller has considerable decorative value, and is something to lean on in time of trouble, but its effect on the direction of a boat is small. When you go forward the propeller winds your stern round to the right, and drives water from under you, sucking you into the bank. When you reverse you swing the other way. The current or the wind can always take you over.”— Narrow Dog To Carcassonne by Terry Darlington

A narrowboat is usually a heavy steel craft in an ungainly shape - ours was the normal shape, seven feet wide by sixty feet long - steered from the back by tiller. Everything happening to the front has already happened, there’s no steering backwards and your ability to steer is determined by water passing over the rudder. The boat draws two feet and the canals are about three feet deep with a foot of that being mud. Complex manoeuvres are often required; swing bridges, single-handing locks, nosing up to kiss a waterpoint.

You can also use the bargepole (that’s the bargepole you wouldn’t touch things with.) here is someone doing it in peaky blinders. The actor is shown just flailing around hopelessly, which is also what an expert narrowboat pilot does.

Expert observers will notice that the canals of the mainland UK are fittingly narrow as hell. How do you turn a narrowboat around, you may ask - or are you trapped only going in one direction? Of course you aren’t. If you aren’t able to do an open water turn, which you can only do rarely, you simply find a winding hole - this is pronounced with the “wind” like “wind as in breeze” - and ram into it in a respectful way; then you turn around naturally, perhaps pushed by the wind like a toy in the bath until you bonk gently into the sides enough to face the right way. Or perhaps you can throw the tiller hard over and pretend to be steering a spaceship. Or just poke things with the bargepole until you’re around. That’s how you turn around. You bonk into the side until you’re facing the other way.

This whole time, the boat (the sixteen ton steel boat in the stupidest possible shape) contains your laptop and clothes and all of your possessions and sometimes your spouse. At any given moment, between the mild boredom and moments of sheer terror, you have wretched little thoughts of it going wrong and losing them all.

Anyway I do love narrowboats a lot, and I liked it a lot, and I miss our boat. but I don’t think I would do it as a fun and relaxing hobby, and I don’t think I would live on one again. It was a Lot, and, much like the tiller itself, much of it is outside of your control. I still dream of weirs and boat fires and drowned boats.

[pparacxosm]

uta hagen

(divorced!art donaldson x reader; tw divorce obviously; tw sporadic mentions of violent or otherwise shitty partners; that sounds intense but this is actually a fun time i swear; cw a little smut; as a treat; tw ironic intimacy; kaz write a normal romance where one or both people aren't hypercritical of the other challenge ((impossible)); tw group therapy; tw condensing of tashi duncan's character for narrative reasons but i hope you know me well enough by now to know where my heart lies; whoever came up with the art donaldson calvin klein campaign headcanon i owe you a kidney; tw exploiting therapeutic exercises for sexual tension lol; tw hamfisted closure; raymond carver easter egg for all who have the eyes to see)

Before anything happens, Art Donaldson is just another guy in the “Learning to Let the Ex Go” group therapy session you signed up for.

It occurs to you, pretty quickly, that Art Donaldson has zero intention of letting his ex go. Dr Harper has this question he asks all the newcomers.

You’re having circle time with a bunch of adults on a Friday afternoon. So that look of longsuffering on the new guy's face isn’t particularly remarkable. You note a few furtive whispers and glances his way. But then this sad little workshop is mostly comprised of weepy middleaged women. They, too, kicked up a ruckus when that silver fox with the Harley—Rick—deigned to grace the room with his impossible biceps for a single, cigarettescented session two weeks ago.

What you’re saying is you know he’s handsome.

And, anyway, you’d never hold anything against your motley crew. Agnes invited you to her neighbourhood book club. Padma brings little clingwrapped trays of desserts every other week. These are your gal pals. Your bereaved bosom buddies. You wouldn’t begrudge them their eye candy.

Dr Harper says, “So,” and claps his hands the way he starts every session, narrowing his eyes with that scarily sentimental smile and sweeping his gaze around the circle. He makes a point to make eye contact with every single person for two whole seconds, as though he knows something you don’t. Then, “As you can see, we are not as few as we once were.”

He tends to speak in that meandering sort of way. He makes a flourishing gesture with his clipboard, as if setting a stage, and says,

“If you wouldn’t mind introducing yourself, and letting us know…” He pauses for effect. He tends to do that, too. “… Why can’t you let your ex go?”

You do the guy the favour of not laving him in that expectant stare people seem to love doing here. You fiddle with your fingers and listen to the uneasy knell of his sneakers against the linoleum. The stilted whine of his little plastic foldout chair. You cast him a glance as stands. He’s sort of tall, but not imposing. His fingers fidget at his sides like he’s awaiting a time bomb.

When he speaks, he looks so upset you’d think he’s getting a root canal. “Uh, hi. I’m Art, uh… just Art.”

And, at the time, you think this is kind of strange.

The next week, when Dr Harper brings a purple tennis racket with Just Art’s face on the front to get him to sign it for his daughter—which you already think is unprofessional and a bit presumptuous, considering how few people actually return for a second session, and how fascinatingly tortured he looked all throughout the first—you will think oh. And then his whole humble kicked puppy thing will feel a little annoying. But that’s besides the point.

On that first day, while he’s standing there awkwardly, and every shriek of his shoes against the ground is making him wince like he’s sporting stab wounds, and he keeps casting very conspicuous glances at the clock, Dr Harper asks why can’t you let your ex go?

And the thing about that question is it’s mostly rhetorical. Sure, it’s supposed to make you think. But the ultimate unearthing there is of the truth that there is no real reason. And such is the first step to selfactualising change and so on and so forth. You get it.

There’s a couple answers you come to expect. The notably lachrymose will get to weeping straight away. Because I’m pathetic! you remember someone wailing, which made you feel like a bit of a sadist, just sitting there and watching. You’re pretty sure you’d said a less than kind, I don’t fucking know, on your first day, but you’ve grown since then, and you appreciate Dr Harper’s abiding effusiveness despite that.

But Just Art releases a contrite sort of exhale and says, “Because I still love her.”

Which—okay—strikes you as a bit overkill.

A tissue discreetly finds his palm, but he only rumples it into a ball.

Dr Harper nods sagely, leaning back in his seat, steepling his fingers under his chin.

“Go on,” he prompts in that gentle, needling way he does.

You don’t Google him. You don’t really need to. Dr Harper keeps intentionally-unintentionally peppering sporadic little pearls of information about him into conversation like some sort of bizarre BINGO game.

Like—for example—when he’s passing out little notepads and outlining your task of writing unflinchingly honest farewell letters to your exes, he tacks on, “—it’ll be tough, but it’s no Wimbledon, am I right, Donaldson?”

And Just Art’s ears will turn a dazzling shade of crimson.

You file these little tidings away in some less important corner of your mind, passively constructing a criminal profile.

Padma brings her son to a session, which you’re pretty sure she’s not allowed to do. Luckily, the kid doesn’t internalise any of Padma’s scathing anecdotes about his father because he’s too busy marvelling at his own freshly signed Art Donaldson racket.

There seems to be a new racket to sign every week.

You doubt people actually give this much of a shit about tennis. But—anyway—you suppose if fucking Michael Cera rocked up and joined the circle, everyone would be hauling a Superbad poster out from some dusty corner, too. Such is the nature of celebrity.

Dr Harper, for one, appreciates the effervescence. He seems to think the mere presence of a famous athlete will motivate everyone in the room to face with renewed fervour their own pathetic little romantic quagmires.

Well, it’s that, or a strange personal infatuation he houses with the guy. Probably both.

You don’t Google him. You don’t Google him, nor his conceivably equally famous exwife. You don’t need to. Dr Harper seems to think it necessary to give you all regular progress reports on that whole imbroglio.

You know there’s news—perhaps unfortunate news—by the colour of Dr Harper’s voice when he says, haltingly, “And Art… how have you been doing?”

By the severity with which Dr Harper nods as Art reads his letter. (“Tashi,” he begins, and one of those not so furtive whispers ricochets around the room, another tissue in his hand; you think it’s Agnes who’s slipping them).

By the abject enthusiasm with which Dr Harper declares what real progress Art is making. Like he’s one of those zoo animals being parallelreared with a human child, and he’s starting to glean the art of speech without being prompted.

This is all saying something, for whom you know to be an already colourful, severe, enthusiastic Dr Harper.

What you gather is a vague impression that Art’s exwife tortured him psychologically by wielding his body and tennis career as serrated edges by which to flay their marriage intricately, slowly. And then there’s something about her repeatedly sleeping with his exbestfriend? Which—big whoop. Eleanor’s boyfriend tried to kill her, which you feel is a marginally more exceptional love story.

A month in, you realise what’s really bothering you is the untruth.

Art Donaldson has zero intention of letting his ex go. He still loves her. He opened with that.

He reads his letter (that reads a lot more like a draft for vow renewals) aloud to the room. Everyone looks at him with these misty eyes like he’s just chainsawed his chest open and wrested his heart from his arteries while simultaneously reciting Sappho.

Which is to say—and you’re no doctor, but—what fucking progress?

You don’t think you’re the patron saint of therapy or anything. But you’ve paid decent money to be here, and you’ve spent more afternoons than you’d stomach admitting on guided meditation. You’re doing The Work, as they say.

You get it; you do. Losing a relationship can feel like a death. Losing yours certainly felt like the Sun had imploded. But Eleanor—you’ll mention again—could be dead. Your jaded inner voice struggles to identify with this probably deplorably wealthy Adonis who can't seem to cut the racket strings.

So you think it’s a little irresponsible to glorify the abject pining of this crestfallen man. All flaxenhaired and broadshouldered like Prince Charming lamenting bedside of Sleeping Beauty.

This is a class about severance.

Art Donaldson seems to weave himself inextricably around something. The love of his wife, sure, that’s obvious enough. But there’s something. Something. Something very sad, sure, but not sad in the way you’re all so sad around here. A different kind of sad.

You’re trying to figure it out.

So you spend some time doing that. Trying to figure him out. You expect to start to hate him the more you stare. The more you note the weird slope of his nose, his selfdeprecating laughter.

But you don’t.

In fact, you find it delightfully, uncomfortably strange. He carries himself like an interloper to despair. Not like he thinks he’s above it necessarily—you’d thought that (reproachfully) for a while—rather like sadness is one of many things stored at the other side of the city, and he keeps missing the train.

Like these brilliant sorrowers are deigning to include him in their orbit, even though he doesn’t belong. If he remains silent, maybe they won’t notice that he’s not one of them. Better yet, conceivably, he’ll actually belong one day.

That’s what it’s like. Like he’s striving for sorrow. Like he’s working with something worse than sorrow and is saying, you know what? I’d rather take the sorrow.

In the exercise you’re doing this week, you’re supposed to personage your ex and act out your final argument. Take your scene partner’s hands and look into their eyes and everything. Dr Harper makes a big deal about how he's not trying to trigger anyone's relationship trauma, but that feels like a lie. You can’t imagine a productive reason to make a bunch of lonely, divorced adults hold hands in a cruel parody of their last brush with fleshdeep connection.

And anyway, fuck this shit.

That doesn’t mean you won’t communicate circles around it. You’re doing The Work, after all.

But fuck it hard.

His hands sort of swallow yours. They are warm and calloused and a little sweaty.

You were, at first, excited by the idea of this proximity. Excited in the way a cultural anthropologist would be, at the prospect of conducting participant research. But now you’re here. Sitting at the edges of your little plastic foldout chairs. Your knees between his. And his fingers are curled pretty firmly around yours. He looks about as comfortable as a grade schooler called to the chalkboard. And you’re the one who’s been sitting around observing him from a distance and gleaning your data and passing your judgement all this time, but it is he who makes—and holds—eyecontact.

His eyes are dusky and intent—molten navy—like he’s seeing past your skin and bone. And you are less than pleased by this subversion.

So when he shifts and his knee brushes your outer thigh, a potent shock of heat resounding through the denim, and he clears his throat and mumbles, “Sorry,” you say,

“You could back up a bit.”

His expression falters. You must admit, there is something alluring in his being disappointed by your little rejection. Anyone looking at it from the outside would find the whole thing pretty ludicrous. That you could say no, that he would even ask.

Dr Harper comes up and puts his hands atop both your heads, which feels more than a little patronising. He squats to be eye level between the two of you and whispers, “Do you know why I paired you two together?”

For a moment, you almost roll your eyes. When all is said and done, and the skull speaks and the bell tolls, your primary takeaway from your time Learning to Let the Ex Go is that Dr Harper has a spectacular penchant for assigning meaning where there is absolutely none.

If he paired you with Art based on eyelash hue, would he come up with some reason for that? Probably, you think.

But what he says next manages to throw you.

“You two…” he begins, pausing for effect. Because, of course. And Art shifts his weight uncomfortably, quite literally wincing as he accidentally bumps your knee again. He glances fleetingly in your direction, ears gone florid, but you have little time to delight in this before Dr Harper stands up straight again and delivers his verdict, “… have the same problem.”

You make a face like you have just seen a lizard eat a bird.

And fucking Art, of all people, has this look in his eyes, this look that’s almost hopeful. Like some explanation is finally to be offered for what the hell is wrong with you.

And you don’t care for that shit. At all.

You bark out a laugh. “I don’t think so.”

Which is, of course, when Dr Harper’s gaze sharpens like a scalpel and locks on you, like you’ve said exactly what he predicted you would say.

Which you care for even less.

He doesn’t look smug. Not exactly. He doesn’t even look vindicated. The only way to describe that look on his face is total delight. Cat with the canary in his maw.

Art seems very committed to staring at the ground, now. Trying, perhaps, to evade something of a brewing storm. You’re tempted to reach up and flick his head for his cowardice, but his hands are—very tightly, now, you’ll note—still holding yours.

“You two are both at mercy to judgement,” Dr Harper declares, and he’s still got your head in his palm like a basketball, and all that selfregulatory yoga feels fucking useless right about now.

You shift to look up at him better. “I’m not at mercy to judgement,” you inform him as calmly as you are able, and maybe you’re disproving his point in this moment by being so affected by this analysis, but you sincerely believe that you’re generally pretty hardwearing.

Dr Harper pauses for effect. “You are at mercy to your own judgement...” Another pause. And you’re about to tell him that—nice fucking try, but—you’re actually a remarkably selfassured person who rarely, if ever, gives yourself to negative selftalk. But then, “... Of others.”

And now it occurs to you that the fucking room has gone silent. And you feel like your eyes have all but crossed in simmering anger. Because—okay—everyone here is crazy, and miserable, and a little fucking pathetic, but you’ve prided yourself on being the least crazy one here.

And fuck.

Fuck if you’re not proving his point right now.

When you open your mouth to argue—because you are going to disagree, if only for the sake of disagreeing—Art Donaldson’s fingers screw up firmer around yours, like he’s some sort of sentient lie detector, and you’re about to ask him where the fuck he gets off, but Dr Harper isn’t done.

He turns, now, to Art.

“And you…” he says. You’re getting seasick with all the pausing. “Donaldson. You’re at mercy to others’ judgements of you, my man.”

So Art, you see out of the corner of your eye, looks like he’d rather debone himself than be sitting here.

And fine.

Okay.

Let’s all agree that that much is true. That Art Donaldson lives and dies by the judgement of others, and you live and die in the name of it. Fine.

Even so, you can’t help but think that these are directly antithetical problems to have.

And, in practice, if you’re a callous shrew, and he’s an open wound, you’ll probably kill him. Or something.

But now Dr Harper’s pushing your heads together like a ref before a rugby match. And he crouches down again. And Art’s nose brushes yours, and your lash swipes his cheek, and you can smell the coffee Dr Harper was just drinking.

And he says, “Let. First serve.”

Then he stands again and pats Art’s shoulder like they’re old friends, and gives a wink to the room at large.

He saunters away. Art looks like someone is pointing a gun to his head. But really it’s just your—heartlessly selfrighteous, apparently—forehead still against his. His skin is feverwarm.

You pull away.

Of course no one takes the exercise seriously.

In its defense, you think, there’s very little that goes down in this room that can be veritably labelled a ‘serious’ event. Most of it—the guided meditations, the writing exercises, Dr Harper’s entire vibe—feels like you happened to miss some crazy event that tore reality asunder and tipped you over into a sadistically tragicomedic alternate universe.

But if you all were to sincerely sit here, knees to knees with mourning strangers, and concretise this litany of other strangers who have wounded you all irrevocably in different ways—shit—Harper’d be sitting with a fetid heap of weeping corses.

So—well.

Eleanor’s chasing Ally around the hall with a her fingers hoisting an invisible shiv yelling, I love you, I love you, you bitch. Which is certainly one way to contend with a murderous exlover, you guess.

Padma and Colin are treating this as a gossip session. You can tell because you can hear that delighted peal of laughter she emits whenever someone interjects one of her—deeply engrossing, by the way—caustic vignettes about her exhusband with a little observational jab at the guy.

Most people are laughing. Or making fun. You catch fleeting dregs of remarkably hilarious conversation from all angles and are reminded why you keep coming back here.

The only person, however, who seems to have really taken Dr Harper’s thought experiment to the harp of his heart—much to your horror—is Art Donaldson.

He sets his elbows on his knees and leans forward. You get a waft of him. Something acerbic like citrus, and maybe pine. He blinks up at you with this almost regrettable intensity. Like he’s about to tell you that he has to pull your teeth. But he’s not thrilled about it. You’re still deciding if you’re flattered by the notion. He’s looking at you like he’s trying to glean the pattern of your sinew with his eyes alone.

“I’ll be you,” he says, his voice low and soft. And there’s a hoarse quality to it, like he’s just run up a staircase.

You’re suddenly very aware of all the noise around the two of you. The laughter, the bedlam. Something faintly percussive.

His thumbs swipe over your knuckles, which you’re hoping is an absent thing.

You blink. Your face is overcast with a less than kind, more than unimpressed glower.

“You’re serious?” you deadpan.

He looks serious as the end times. His fingers twitch around yours. You feel his knuckles like piano keys against your palm.

Dr Harper has essentially told this man that you have something he doesn’t. Something he needs. And now—with a tenacity you can only imagine churns through his bones by rote—he seems determined to find it.

He’s gripping your hands like you’re the fucking racket.

He leans down further, elbows pressing into his thighs, and his face gets alarmingly close to your fingers. A whisper of heat against your nailbeds.

When his tongue dips out to swipe the chapped coral edge of his upper lip, you nearly flinch, because you think that wet will touch you. But it doesn’t.

He peers up at you intently. You see the way his throat shifts under his wan skin as he swallows.

“I’m as serious as you want me to be,” he says. He is absurdly sincere, but also something else.

Your brows twitch, and you frown, because you are now realising that, even after several weeks of careful observation, you do not have even a remote understanding of this man to speak of. You feel like an academic whose thesis has just been rejected, and now they’re back to square one of some miserable odyssey. Moreover, this is all just unutterably ridiculous, so you sigh and roll your eyes and shift in your seat, your knee knocking against his inner thigh.

“Fine,” you say, “You be me.”

Art’s face is set in what you first think is determination, but are incredibly unnerved to discover is him getting into character. He’s trying to emulate that vaguely bitter perennial scowl of yours. He looks like a bitch—which means he’s pretty fucking dead on.

You’re almost impressed.

Of course, he still looks sad. There’s a vulnerability his mimicry cannot conceal. But you think he’s finding something cathartic in wearing the hue of your passive vitriol.

You tell him to express a perfectly reasonable grievance to you—and you yourself are now rolling your shoulders and slinking into the ethos of a gaslighting asshole—like how you never wash the dishes. Like, ever.

He clears his throat.

“You never do the dishes.”

You swallow.

“Right…” you murmur.

You’re still a little facetious about this whole thing, but there is that intensity in his gaze that wrests you into the moment like a fervid point of gravity.

“Well, now I—as my ex—would probably tell you—” You roll your eyes again, but now it is at the memory you’re unsheathing. “—oh, you’re being dramatic. I was just about to do them. Why are you always on my ass?”

And Art’s nose wrinkles, like the memory is offensive to him, too.

He looks you over like a sawbones trying to determine a patient’s symptoms. Mapping out the incision.

“Then I—you—would say…” He’s speaking really slowly, too. Like he’s giving you the chance to object where you see fit, on grounds of mischaracterisation. “I would say that you always say you’re going to do all kinds of things. But you never actually do them.”

“Exactly!” you blurt, kneejerk. But then you catch yourself. Flex your fingers a bit in his. Clear your throat and put on your best impression of a total dolt again. “Okay—oh, maybe you’re too busy focusing on the little stuff I don’t do to recognise the large sacrifices I make for our relationship.”

He scoffs.

It’s your scoff. A facsimile of that incredulous ire you seem to always be evincing. It’s deeply disturbing.

“What sacrifices?” You can’t tell who’s asking.

“W—” You falter. Swallow. It takes you a moment—like you’re emerging from deep water—to answer, as your ex, “Well, I moved here, didn’t I? Packed up all my shit and left my friends, my family, fucking everything. To be with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to move.”

“You didn’t,” you confirm quickly. And you can’t tell who’s saying that, either. But you put on the voice again, and say, “You didn’t. But I still did it for you. And I don’t think you’ve ever said thank you. Or sorry.”

A beat.

Your hands go slack in his. You sigh. “You never say sorry.”

Art’s eyes search you like a probe.

Your shoulders are stonerigid and the blood is rushing like torrent through your ears because—somehow—this feels uncomfortably like a fight. Like that fight. And your body seems keen on adjusting the scoreboard accordingly.

His thumbs rub your knuckles again, in a way that feels a lot less idle this time.

“I’m still not going to say sorry,” he guesses with a marginal tentativeness, but a general certainty in his assessment.

You swallow again. “Yeah,” you rasp, “You’re not.”

It occurs to you that this exercise is a little like immolation.

He’s supposed to be acting like you. But he’s acting like you at your worst, and doing so—to his credit—a little more accurately than you’d like to admit.

It strikes you as unfair. And excoriating. And you picture yourself tackling Dr Harper to the ground and choking him out.

And then Art says, “We’ve been having this fight for…?”

“Two months,” you mumble. You’re not even doing the voice anymore.

Art clicks his teeth, a sentimental crease at the corner of his eye. “I think we should break up.”

You sigh. “Yeah, probably.”

“It’ll be really hard for me.”

A guess again, but then you’re here. Doing The Work. Holding hands and roleplaying. It’s not inconceivable that you didn’t take the breakup exceptionally.

Your lip twitches. “You’ll survive.”

He pushes off his elbows and sits up straight, his knees sidling fully around your thighs, now unashamed. He gives you a look. A different one. His mouth purses to the side in some alloy of pensive amusement, a dimple delved into his cheek. His gaze coruscates with a deep cornflower intrigue.

“I think I will, actually,” he says finally.

And he has the nerve to smile. Revoltingly soft and sympathetic.

He gives your hands a parting squeeze before dropping them in your lap, his chair scraping loud the linoleum as he backs off.

You call your ex that night.

“Hey, listen,” you say, “Sorry.”

Dr Harper’s probably somewhere creaming his pants so fervently as to have rendered himself numb in a state of gleeful stupor.

“Hey,” husks your ex—who, for his flaws, has always been more magnanimous than you—before chuckling, “No worries.” You can hear that easy smile of a life unburdened by you in his voice.

Which is fine.

“How are you?” he asks then, “You good? You surviving?”

You smile wryly. You feel like you’ve been flogged by four consecutive eighteenwheelers. “I think I will, actually.”

You Google Art Donaldson.

You’re having a drink with Eleanor and Ally and Colin and a few others from the group, and you’re basically shitting all over the whole programme in a very hush-hush sort of way because you all know what an Opportunity For Growth this has been, when Art walks into the bar and spots your table and nods at the whole gang. The mood quickly shifts. Excitement, sure, but a collective wordless agreement that the lighthearted gossip between real friends ends here. You feel bad. It’s not his fault.

Art slides into your booth with beer floats and greets Colin, who’s looking at him with a senex’s disdain because he was just telling you all how he’s thinking of getting hair plugs. Again, not Art’s fault.

Art’s in camouflage, with his baseball hat and T-shirt, which you think is unnecessary because—again—you’re still quite certain no one gives enough of a shit about tennis as to recognise him in a bar.

When he slides into the booth—into the space between you and Colin—he’s careful to leave a distance between the two of you. Which you only really notice at all because you’re acutely aware of exactly how much space occupies the expanse between the two of you at any given instance.

A bunch of people at the table are already looking at him like he’s some sort of foreign dignitary.

You don’t think athletes are necessarily charming by nature, and you refuse to give Art Donaldson that kind of credit, but he doesn’t have to try very hard to make himself agreeable to everyone.

He buys a round for the whole group. He asks after jobs, and the state of marriage, and family, and life. He seems sincere enough.

You all start chatting about the various horrific relationships that lead you here, as though they were all particularly uninteresting ham and cheese sandwiches. Colin’s exfiancée diagnosed with early onset dementia. Ally’s exgirlfriend developing a heroin habit. You’ve all jabbed and scrutinised these woes to deflated nothingness, by now. None of it hurts anymore. Is that the whole point? You still don’t know.

No one knows by what fancy Dr Harper pushes you all about in his great cosmic dance of personal selfimprovement.

You do know that Art remains quiet. Generally inconspicuous, but then you’re you, so you’re paying attention. And you don’t think he should get to sit there like an archaeologist recording the fossils of your collective melancholy, as though his own warm and living bones are out of the question.

Maybe you all can pull up the People.com article, A Comprehensive Timeline of Art and Tashi Donaldson’s Perfect Relationship and Messy Divorce, and have it contribute to the conversation.

Eleanor’s telling a story about the time her ex wrested her from bed and lobbed her out of the house at 2 AM in midwinter.

“And we lived in Duluth,” Eleanor’s saying, and she’s laughing in that disconcertingly manic way she does when she shares these things. “And I sleep halfnaked, so I’m fighting frostbite, and I’m just totally mortified that one of my neighbours will see me.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about being halfnaked,” Ally shrugs.

And then you say, “Ha, yeah, I mean Art would know.”

Art—who, until now, looked like he was studiously contemplating the meniscus of his beer, or the grain of the table—flicks his gaze up to you.

You snort. “What, I’m supposed to act like everyone here hasn’t seen you oiled up and smouldering to the camera for Calvin Klein?”

A brief hush descends upon the table like a falling guillotine.

Then, laughter.

Eleanor snorts her gin and soda with such force that she coughs for a solid minute afterwards. There’s tears in her eyes and Colin is laughing at her and Ally is laughing at them both. And Art looks as embarrassed as a woman strewn porchside in her panties in midwinter in Duluth.

And—okay.

You were trying to be tongueincheek about it. But his discomfort levels are seemingly off the charts. He doesn’t know how to react and it makes him unhappy. Clearly, ten and something years of public scrutiny—and, in your defense, actually doing that photoshoot—have not prepared him for this moment.

You lean forward and awkwardly bump his fist with yours. “Hey, I’m kidding.”

But you’re not, because it was technically true.

“I thought it was artistic,” says Ally.

Eleanor, still crying laughing, “What, the fullpage spread of him fully waxed and laid out on a clay court surrounded by Great Danes?”

“Someone paid attention,” Colin chuckles, and Eleanor erupts into vibrant giggles again. Colin gives Art a courtesy clap on the shoulder before saying to Ally, “Maybe I’m old fashioned, but a Billboard of a guy wearing whities so tightie you can see his dickprint isn’t exactly Starry Night. But maybe I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to worry too much about that. The art has to get you,” Ally says, pointing at him with a fry. Ally studied theatre. “I mean, we are the most complicated machinery in our lives. You have to take yourself seriously to do something like that.”

Everyone’s looking at Art like he’s some kind of colourful textbook.

It’s not often people sit beside a guy of whom they can confidently guess the naked physique.

And maybe you’re thinking that, too; you brought it up, after all. His arms look strong in his T-shirt sleeves. Not, like, bodybuilder strong. But lean and cut. And there’s a sort of animal grace to his movements. Like a fox, or something. Even as his ears burn a practically neon shade of carmine in the dim lighting.

He clears his throat. “I doubt anyone took that seriously,” he says dryly, the corner of his mouth ruefully, if hardly, upturned.

Eleanor shoves Ally playfully, swiping her tears away in a blissful mascara smear. “My God Al, will you stop scaring him with your Uta Hagen spiel?”

The conversation meanders to other topics. Fringe stuff, briefly, like the societal implications of male sexuality and modern advertising. But then things branch off entirely—The Fast and the Furious franchise, artificial intelligence, Colin’s stepson’s career aspirations of becoming a TikTok street interviewer. Et cetera.

You hope Art isn’t looking at you when you chance a glance his way, but when have you ever been so lucky?

So he’s looking at you. He looks at you like he’s taking inventory of you at your expense. He gives a slow blink, an almost imperceptible smile, then he lifts his beer towards you and takes a swig.

At the end of the night, he asks for your number, which feels like a boot to the loins. Not because it’s profoundly unbelievable. Maybe a little surprising, but, if anything, it’s the conclusion you’ve halfanticipated all night. That’s the way he’s been looking at you, at least. It’s just the finality of it all.

But what are you gonna say? No?

You call him that night.

“Hey, listen,” you say, “Sorry.”

God, what have they done to you?

Art, on the other end of the line, presumably lounging in his stately mansion, remains cautiously silent. You sigh like you’re losing something here.

“I hope I didn’t upset you,” you say, but realise your tone is too grudging, so you adjust, “I got awkward, I was trying to be funny. Which we both know by now that I’m not. I’m just a bitch. So, I just wanted to say… you obviously look fucking amazing. And your shoot was great. Everyone can see that.” 

You swallow the dryness in your throat.

Art makes his own pained noise across the receiver. “Everyone?” he groans, and you cannot tell if you’re imagining the fleeting hue of amusement you discern there. “Please no.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“You called me,” he scoffs. It’s a good scoff, if such a thing can be said. But he still sounds pretty incredulous with you, and not in a way that says he thinks you a moral paragon. You think he thinks you’re a bit of a monster. Which doesn’t offend you, actually. “To apologise.”

“And I did!”

“Okay?”

A silence befalls you like a yawning maw, stretching out. He could hang up on you. He doesn’t.

“Look, you can internalise the things I say at your own risk,” you say.

“You’re telling me.”

“But it was a nice photoshoot. And, you know… pretty hot and stuff, which I guess was the intended purpose.”

You feel like a corpse whose arteries are being drained of blood and filled with embalming fluid.

“Pretty hot and stuff?” he echoes. You roll your eyes.

If you’re lucky, he’s tipsy, because you guys didn’t only indulge in beer floats. So, maybe—by God’s impossible mercy—he’ll have forgotten this conversation in the morning.

“I—” you hesitate, adding a small laugh, kind of hoarse, kind of unconvincing. “I—honestly—I can’t stop watching it.”

It’s not a joke, you both realise.

His voice drops an octave. “Really?”

And—fuck. Fuck, right? But you’ve made it this far.

“Really.”

You feel his eyes on you, not Tashi. Harper has you all thronged around a burn barrel in the community centre parking lot at 8 PM on a Wednesday. Scintillating honeygold flames lick at the night and shadow his face at pretty angles. And he’s reading his letter—that letter—and looking at you.

That’s bad.

This is supposed to be a cathartic and utterly sexless exercise in closure.

But you feel like a filthy fraud.

You’re crossing your arms, and blinking off the flameheat, and pretending not to stare at the scarp of his Adam’s apple and his tendons working beneath the skin of his hands.

He clears his throat, and his lips are moving like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Tashi,” he starts.

Her name, when he says it, still sounds like a tender orison. But last time he’d been reciting this thing, his eyes had been all flushed, raw, and misty, his voice abraded at its edges. Now—well—Agnes hasn’t slipped him a tissue in weeks.

“I still love— do we have to do this again? Can’t I just throw it in?”

The group sputters into giggles. You don’t know who brought the sweet Moscato.

Dr Harper pinches his nosebridge like an enervated preschool teacher. You think he, of all people, ought to be pleased—and you suspect he furtively is, but doesn’t want to discourage your good spirits with his approval—because, as much as you’re loathed to acknowledge it, all his forcible, unwelcome attempts at conjuring vulnerability amongst the lot of you have actually kind of worked.

The fire warms your brows to dampness, the saccharine acidity of the spirit seeping through your flesh and sweltering the rest of you. You should’ve worn a thinner sweater.

“Art,” says Dr Harper, “Your feelings are valid. Even—” The group interjects with a smattering of jeers, a slurred, densetongued amalgam of fuck you! and get a life, Harper! and other stuff to that effect. “—even your reluctance.”

The flames thrash deep indigo and copper. No one can quit laughing.

Dr Harper continues, “But the whole point of the exercise is—”

“Come on, Doc, we’re still pretending these exercises have points?” someone heckles.

“We’re still calling these exercises?” says someone else.

“Hurry up and cry already, Donaldson, I got work tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright,” Art raises a hand and everyone wanes to a simmer of firewarm drunken murmurs as though he’s some sort of Biblical king.

You roll your eyes, but you keep thinking of Great Danes on tennis courts and tightiewhities.

Everyone cheers like this is fucking Madison Square Garden when Art holds his hand out for the bottle, teeth scintillating in the pyreglow with a wry slanting smile.

He takes a long, healthy swig. You think you hear someone whistle. His lips gleam with moisture when they pop off the glass bottlemouth.

“You wanna see me cry?” he grins, eminently rueful and amused and resigned, all at once.

And everyone hurrahs and hollers and maybe some people even bark. He’s being pushed around affectionately from all angles. His gaze is sharp and garlanded by flames and trained on you. You raise your brows at him wryly, perhaps a little dubious, before lifting your hands and joining in the applause.

He clears his throat and sweeps his tongue over his upper lip and flicks the paper out like a Shakespearean scroll.

“Tashi,” he starts again.

You watch the fire lave and singe and swallow all your bitter, pathetic epistles.

Tashi.

I still love you. I’m still sorry. For something, or everything. For anything, really. It’s mostly okay, but it’s worse at night. And on weekends, and with Lily, and when the microwave starts making that shitty sound that you hated.

I miss you deep in my bones. I—

The flames scorch his words to flickering cinders.

You look at him, and he looks at you, and his bottom lashes glisten with tears. But he’s grinning widely. He’s laughing. He’s laughing a lot. Padma sings ‘Auld Lang Syne’, for some reason.

The goodbyes are a little maudlin, but sincere.

It’s time for you to all go home and actually get over your exes, which feels a bit jilting.

Art walks you to your car, and you let him, and you even let him get in your car, which is probably not a good idea. But it’s the end of the stupid workshop and you want to spend more time together. There, you can admit it.

You even say it out loud.

“I’m gonna miss this corny bullshit.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says, a little more quiet.

When the middle backseat belt buckle is digging sharply into your hip, and he’s got you pinned beneath him, and his hands are everywhere—seriously, it seems he was just waiting for your permission, because he’s squeezing all the flesh he can reach, slipping his hands under your shirt, between your thighs, just absolutely no decorum on this guy—you think to yourself, this motherfucker.

A spherule of spearmint gum slips from his mouth and into yours.

You’d thought, too, that he’d be more deft with this. And he is, but he’s also very clunky. Maybe because your car’s quite small. He’s not huge, but he is still fairly tall and broad and trying to fit himself between your thighs while covering you with his body in this small space, so it’s a bit chaotic. You don’t really mind.

And—yes—you have thought about it.

There’s a shot of him, in the Calvin Klein campaign, sprawled across the court in greyscale, his hand resting on his middle, his other arm above his head.

You know they edit those photos. That there’s some kid, fresh out of graphic design school, rubbing one out while airbrushing these halfnaked men to oblivion. But you now see—feel, more than see, really; there’s a streetlight nearby, but it’s blown, so you’re all touch—that such satin cannot be contrived. He really is that smooth. There’s not a bit of fat on him, but he’s oddly liquidfeeling, skin sloughing off like cream.

He’s always looked almost uncomfortably boyish to you. But you’re realising now that there’s an abrasiveness to his haggard breathing, and that potent, vaguely olid, mannish fume to his skin.

It's really doing it for you.

In that shot, he was lying right beside the polyethylene net and the sun was beaming down, searing alabaster, through the lattice, at an angle that splayed shadows all across him. The lines warping over the slopes of his body.

You feel the phantom crisscross of those shadows between your thighs now.

His eyes are still a little wet. He tells you he’s wanted to do this since he saw you giving him the jettatura while he was signing that racket for Harper's daughter. He also tells you he bets you’ve wanted to do this since you saw him in tightiewhities lying under a tennis net.

Can he be your tennis net?

You don’t even know what that means.

You laugh a little, but then he slips a finger inside you and latches his mouth to your pulse, and it is hot as magma, and you forget all about Great Danes and apologies and fires.

You would think they do some computer magic to make the cocks look bigger in those things, too.

They don’t.

To be fair, he doesn’t have some kind of doubletake worthy, John Holmes ordeal or anything, in the pictures. But the slope beneath the cotton, the bend of his hips like the handle of a water pitcher, all that pearlescent skin—so what if your saliva gathered on your tongue as you leaned in (way too closely) toward your laptop screen?

You feel especially shameless now as he slides into you.

Sure, the buckle is a bitch and the seatleather’s sort of chafing your ass and your elbow’s in a cup holder. But you take furtive pleasure in thinking that some people’s fantasies about him probably go like this.

The softest thing is his hand cupping the back of your neck, dragging your head up. It’s a weird contrast to the way his dick is pumping erratically in and out of you. Like he’s trying to control himself, maybe add a little romance.

You keep your eyes open to watch the way his body moves. Fuck it, you wanna see what all the fuss is about.

The talented Mr Ripley whose volleys (and probably orgasms) are intensive, frenetic affairs of selfpersuasion. Unless, of course, he’s fucking the random, judgy woman he met in a group therapy session. In this particular case—though laboured all the same—he comes harder and slower and you hear his panting groans in your ear as you shudder through your own pleasure.

He pulls your hips closer and empties himself in you and you rub yourself against him and you try to keep your eyes open, but, ultimately, you concede that you can only experience this pleasure in the dark.

You keep feeling his muscles work beneath your hands, though.

Dr Harper strongly recommends that you two not start seeing each other. He does just about everything but get on his knees and beg. And even that he nearly does. He reminds you that, on your Vision Tree, you mapped yourself single for at least the next two years.

But Art says he’s had enough of other people saying what’s good for him.

And your Vision Tree also forecasted you taking up jogging, which—come on.

[deepak-kansal]

Did You Know? Your Mouth Produces Over 25,000 Liters of Saliva in a Lifetime

Saliva is one of the most underrated yet essential fluids produced by the human body. Over the course of a lifetime, the average person produces more than 25,000 liters of saliva — enough to fill two swimming pools! While saliva might seem like a mundane topic, it plays a vital role in maintaining your oral health and overall well-being. Let’s explore this fascinating subject in depth.

What is Saliva and Why is it Important?

Saliva is a clear, watery fluid secreted by the salivary glands in your mouth. Composed mostly of water, it also contains essential enzymes, proteins, minerals, and antibacterial compounds that help maintain oral and overall health. Here are some key functions of saliva:

Protects Your Teeth and Gums: Saliva neutralizes acids in your mouth, helping to prevent tooth decay and gum disease.

Aids in Digestion: It contains enzymes like amylase that help break down carbohydrates before swallowing.

Moistens and Lubricates: Saliva ensures that your mouth stays moist, making it easier to chew, swallow, and speak.

Fights Bacteria: Its antimicrobial properties combat harmful bacteria, reducing the risk of infections.

Supports Taste Sensation: Without saliva, your ability to taste food would be significantly diminished.

How Does Saliva Production Work?

Saliva is produced by three major pairs of salivary glands:

Parotid Glands: Located near the ears, these glands produce a watery secretion rich in enzymes.

Submandibular Glands: Found under the lower jaw, these glands produce a mix of enzymes and mucus.

Sublingual Glands: Situated beneath the tongue, these glands produce a mucus-rich saliva.

In addition to these, minor salivary glands throughout the mouth contribute to saliva production. On average, a healthy person produces about 1 to 1.5 liters of saliva per day.

25,000 Liters Over a Lifetime: Why So Much?

Producing over 25,000 liters of saliva in a lifetime may seem excessive, but when broken down, it makes sense:

Daily Production: Roughly 1.5 liters per day.

Lifespan: Over 70 years, this adds up to the astounding total of 25,000 liters or more.

Saliva production is continuous but varies throughout the day. It increases when eating, drinking, or even thinking about food and decreases during sleep. This consistent production is crucial for keeping your mouth healthy and functioning.

What Happens When Saliva Production is Insufficient?

A lack of adequate saliva, known as xerostomia or dry mouth, can lead to a range of oral health issues, including:

Increased risk of cavities and gum disease

Difficulty in chewing, swallowing, and speaking

Bad breath (halitosis)

Altered sense of taste

Dry mouth can result from dehydration, medication side effects, or underlying medical conditions. If you experience persistent dry mouth, consult a dental professional.

Dental Hygienist vs Dentist: What’s the Difference?

While both dental hygienists and dentists work to improve oral health, their roles differ significantly.

Dental Hygienist

A dental hygienist specializes in preventative care, focusing on maintaining oral health. Their responsibilities include:

Performing professional teeth cleanings

Educating patients on proper oral hygiene practices

Taking X-rays and assessing gum health

Applying fluoride treatments and sealants

Dentist

Dentists are medical professionals trained to diagnose and treat oral diseases and conditions. Their tasks include:

Filling cavities and treating tooth decay

Performing root canals, crowns, and extractions

Diagnosing oral diseases like gum disease or oral cancer

Developing comprehensive treatment plans

Both professionals are essential in ensuring optimal oral health, working together to provide comprehensive care. Deepak Kansal, a skilled dental hygienist, emphasizes the importance of regular cleanings and proper oral hygiene as the foundation for a healthy smile. Learn more about his work at www.deepakkansal.com.

How to Support Saliva Production Naturally

Ensuring healthy saliva production is key to maintaining oral health. Here are some tips:

Stay Hydrated: Drink plenty of water throughout the day to keep your salivary glands active.

Chew Sugar-Free Gum: Stimulates saliva flow, especially after meals.

Consume a Balanced Diet: Foods rich in vitamins and minerals, like fruits and vegetables, promote salivary gland health.

Avoid Tobacco and Alcohol: These can dry out your mouth and reduce saliva production.

Use a Humidifier: Helps maintain moisture in your mouth, especially while sleeping.

Fascinating Facts About Saliva

Saliva contains enzymes that begin digestion right in your mouth.

It plays a crucial role in wound healing within the oral cavity.

The average person swallows around 2,000 times a day, with saliva playing a major role in this process.

Saliva can be used for diagnostic purposes, including detecting diseases like diabetes and even COVID-19.

Final Thoughts

Saliva is much more than a simple liquid in your mouth. Its protective, digestive, and antibacterial properties are essential for overall health. By staying hydrated, practicing good oral hygiene, and consulting professionals like Deepak Kansal, Dental Hygienist, you can ensure your mouth remains healthy for years to come. For more insights and expert advice, visit www.deepakkansal.com.

Disclaimer

The information provided is for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. Readers should consult with a qualified healthcare professional for diagnosis and treatment.

[definegodliness]

Update (good news!)

First of all, thank you all for your well wishes.

Yesterday when I woke up the swelling finally got less, so those gnarly antibiotics are now doing more than maintaining the status quo. I called the jaw surgeon for an appointment, and next Thursday I'll be getting an Apex Resection. To save you any googling, it's basically a root canal from the side, where they'll open up my gums and then drill through my jaw bone to do so.

I put the appointment on Thursday so the antibiotics can do their work a bit more. It'll make the surgery easier the more the abscess dwindles, and I'm already in this kind of fighting mode I feel I can keep up (especially since the worst is over). So I traded in a little agony these days, to save me some agony in the oncoming days.

So here's to hoping Thursday I'll be going to hospital with a somewhat normal cheek. I don't think it'll be completely normal, because it's still going really slow, but I'm feeling confident this is the right decision.

I'll probably get antibiotics again. Not sure how I'll react to those, but these ones have been kicking my ass with side effects, which is why I haven't been Tumblring. I'm glad I'm not allergic to the stuff because it's doing it's thing, but, damn, am I sensitive to those pills. General misery. I won't bore you with the details.

Miss you guys!

[dailyanarchistposts]

Safety: False Solutions

Government’s approach to safety is not to address the root of the problem – heavy, fast-moving traffic – but to enforce the segregation of people and cars. This means footways and pedestrianization for walkers, bike paths and lanes for cyclists. Motorways in Britain started as a means of separating pedestrians from the motor danger posed by cars. Experience shows however that the only road-user groups to gain substantially from segregation are car and lorry drivers. Cars have an immense greed for space that expands as opportunity arises, nullifying all but the most radical (total) safety strategies for pedestrians and cyclists. Because ‘solutions’ are devised always with cars in mind, they often cause more problems. Pavements must be protected from cars so the solution is to build rails along them, not to slow the cars down. Subways are rightly hated for their real and perceived danger. Visibility and surveillance are usually poor, and they are often badly maintained. Their steps are a particular problem for children and their carers, the elderly and people with disabilities. Foot-bridges suffer similar disadvantages in the other direction. Pedestrianization may segregate cars and people in inner-city areas but it also causes problems of access for the disabled and generates additional traffic in adjoining areas. For cyclists there is often insufficient space for continuous cycle tracks or lanes. The post-war British new towns, such as Stevenage and Peterborough, have a segregated network of cycle and pedestrian paths but this is inappropriate to older towns. Off-road routes (e.g. the Bath-Bristol pedestrian and cycle path) have been built on old railway sites, canal towpaths, bridleway’s and forest roads. But they are very limited in availability and prone to appropriation by more spacehungry and powerful forms of transport. Cycle routes using side streets are equally limited.

We have seen that “road safety” is a road lobby smokescreen to divert people from addressing the root of the problem — power. It is the power dynamic of motorisation, with its social effects of fear, retreat, isolation, ill health, injury and death. And it is the political power of the road lobby (large sections of the ruling class, the state, media, road safety lobby, oil/car/ construction companies etc). The road lobby causes the motorisation problem, then it defines how it is discussed through the “road safety” myth. Thus its ‘solutions’ prevail: keep pedestrians and cyclists out of the way, make ‘safer cars’ (safer for drivers, more dangerous for everyone else), and build more roads.

[sgiandubh]

I would like to thank you. I really enjoy reading what you write. It's enough to be comforting. Thank you very much. Sorry for the English, I used Google. 😘

Dear Google Anon,

This blog is not a fascist project and I will never turn away any user who touchingly used Google Translate to read my musings. I only slap the holier-than-thou, the liars, the party poopers and the cerebral flatulence of Mordor, whose venom and bile I truly despise, especially when they are expressed in sometimes illegible English.

I am also very antithetically fond of non-professionals daring to have very strong words and very strong opinions on technical matters they absolutely have no idea about, such as a property's legal situation. I would never have the nerve or the lack of common sense to discuss the various merits or side effects of a root canal intervention, for example. It's just ridiculous: but that's another story, of course.

As you all know by now, English is not my native language. But I think it is a sign of respect to try your best when writing for an anglophone audience. You wouldn't go to your (Agony) Aunt's dining room and put your feet on her table, would you?

May I warmly thank you for your kindness and confidence. I try to keep it simple and clear, if seldom short. And I never judge, except when it comes to aggressive idiocy, weird agendas or patronizing bitching.

Thank you again, Anon. Truly. Drop by anytime.

[seashellronan]

Extractions are usually cheaper than root canals by a long way, if it's a tooth you can live without. Paracetamol and ibuprofen are the main stays of treatment (take both together for max effect, avoid ibuprofen if you have stomach ulcers, take paracetamol REGULARLY every 8 hoirs whether you have pain or not), though some doctord/dentists might prescribe you codeine. As for other pain options, this is a long shot but i once had a patient with root canal pain in one of the top side teeth. She had figured out that if she constantly pressed on a specific spot on her cheek bone, the pain lessened. Google the infraorbital nerve and infraorbital foramen (the hole in the cheekbone that nerve passes through). That will tell you whether your specific painful tooth might be responsive to the same treatment, and where to press if so. (Basically, keeping pressure on the nerve tbat carries sensation from those teeth, can reduce the amount of pain you feel from that tooth, same as when you sleep funny and wake up with a numb arm because the nerves where being squashed while you slept).

Other measures you will already have figured out includes avoiding cold food/water in your mouth (in severe cases even breathing through the mouth can be too painful), and also sometimes avoiding hot and sweet. Heat packs on your face might be helpful. If you're in a pain crisis, the dentist should be able to numb the area for you with an injection, though I'm sure you'd have to pay for a consultation fee or something. Good luck, I hope it works out.

thank you for the help i couldn’t opt for extraction because it’s too close to the front and would cause my other teeth to shift but i’ve gotten the root canal after borrowing money from my boyfriend and good news is he says i should hopefully not need a crown because they can put in a post later to stabilise it so hopefully should be all okay

[health-wellness-26]

Steel Bite Pro Supplements - Health

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Since using Steel Bite Pro, I've noticed a significant improvement in my overall oral health. My gums feel firmer, and my breath feels fresher. This has definitely boosted my confidence, especially when interacting with others. I no longer feel self-conscious about smiling or speaking in public.

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Steel Bite Pro comes in convenient capsule form, making it simple to incorporate into my daily routine. I take two capsules with a meal, and that's it! The capsules are easy to swallow and haven't caused any digestive issues.

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[afniel]

Oh I've got to finish the art and I'm slower than I thought because I keep sleeping like a maniac...thanks, root canal, I did not expect side effects to include "sleeping 12-14 hours a day" but I probably should have.

[aruncaredentalclinic]

Tips on Dental Cleanings why it is important to have regular checkups

Personal care is very important for our overall body health; dental appointments are to be done regularly. We, at Dr. Arun Care Dental Clinic in Villivakkam, Chennai, try to teach our patients and inspire them to get their routine checkups and cleanings done. It is seductive to skip these appointments, after all, what’s the big deal after all, it’s no big deal but eventually, it can cause some serious dental and overall health problems.

Our aim at being the trusted dental clinic in Chennai close to Villivakkam, Mogappair for the patients from this area is to serve them with preventive care to ensure that they have full healthy smiles in their lifetime. The reason why you should never skip your dental cleaning appointments and why Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic Is the best dental clinic for your oral health.

Roles associated with Regular Dental Cleaning.

Professional cleanings are more than simple brushing and flossing at home; prophylaxis. Plaque can be cleared with simple brushing or some flossing and rinsing every day. Some of the plaque hardens or becomes calcified and needs the dentist’s help to clean tartar. While plaque can be easily brushed, flossed and rinsed daily, some of it becomes calcified and turns into tartar, which requires a dentist’s help. The professionals at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in Villivakkam offer a cleaning session and ensure that your teeth are cleaned of tartar, plaque, and other stains hence giving a healthy natural bright smile.

If you don’t miss these cleanings, a lot of issues such as gum disease, tooth decay or halitosis occur. However, if left unchecked, tartar accomplishes several things: it can contribute to gum inflammation which if allowed can progress to gingivitis, and ultimately periodontitis.

Early Detection of Dental Problems

Our dentists at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in Chennai will also be able to monitor your oral health and your capacity to identify problems that could be present at an early stage due to the routine cleaning practice. Majority of the oral ailments like; tooth decay, gum diseases, and mouth infections are usually asymptotic at their early stages.  By scheduling routine checkups and cleanings, we catch these problems early at the beginning and do not have to treat severe problems that can lead to more extensive, costly treatment.

For example, a small hole, likely treated with a simple filling, might become a major problem requiring a root canal or extraction if it is not treated. Preventive care is our commitment to you so you can get small issues taken care of in the beginning in order to save time and money down the road.

The Relationship between Oral Health and the Body System.

A concept people are more likely to underestimate the importance of is that oral health is not related to the rest of your body’s health. It has been found to have some effects on various diseases and conditions such as diabetes, heart disease etc. At Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in Villivakkam, we attempt to preserve your dental health to prevent such possible systemic side effects.

Looking at the relationship between gum infection bacteria and the blood flow system, the bacteria can cause inflammation or make existing diseases worse. The reason why this issue must be given particular attention is that oral health plays a role in chronic disease patients, for instance, people with diabetes to regulate blood sugar levels. Preventing a complicated situation therefore requires ensuring that you do not offload dental cleanings as being unimportant.

Reduced Risk of Tooth Loss

The more you skip dental cleaning, the higher your risk of losing teeth to gum disease and decay untreated. As time passes, the plaque and tartar buildup can eventually weaken the structural support of the teeth and you may find yourself with loose or even falling teeth. Preventive cleanings at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in Villivakkam keep your gums and teeth healthy and secure so you have less chance of tooth loss and maintain your natural smile.

Smile Better, More Confident

Dr. Arun Care Dental Clinic in Chennai removes surface stains from coffee, tea, tobacco and other lifestyle factors through professional cleanings. In addition to making your teeth look better, it also boosts your self-confidence.

Having a great, clean, white smile will make a lasting impression wherever you are at work, a social gathering or an important event. If you keep up your dental cleaning appointments, you will not sacrifice your smile as your best asset.

Combatting Bad Breath

Bad breath or halitosis as it is also called can be persistent embarrassing, and socially isolating. Brushing and flossing will help, but they won’t work for all cases of bad breath, like when the issue is tartar buildup, gum disease, or a cavity. Using proper cleanings and personal care plans, we take the root cause of bad breath at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in Mogappair.

Chronic halitosis results from the accumulation of bacteria or plaque without skipping your cleanings. Of course, our clinic does all it can to keep your mouth fresh and your breath pleasant through regular visits, this will give you confidence in everyday life.

Saving Money in the Long Run

However, what might seem logical is if you fail to attend those dental cleaning sessions, you might end up paying more in the long run. The right steps need to be taken to treat advanced dental problems rather than doing all that would be necessary to maintain proper dental health. The cleaning schedule at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in kolathur reduces your expenses of root canals, crowns, and implants which are costly procedures.

Like any other investment in your health, dental cleanings should be seen as long-term processes. Read and follow our suggestions that your teeth and gums will remain healthy, and will not lead to costly dental emergencies.

To encourage good oral hygiene practices

Regular cleanings at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in korattur give you the ability to learn about correct oral hygiene practices applicable to your situation. Our highly skilled oral health team teaches patients how to brush their teeth correctly, how to floss, and which products will help them maintain their optimal oral health.

We also give personalized advice for people with braces, dental implants, or other special dental issues. It gives you some ideas on how you can keep up a smooth and sound oral hygiene schedule between your visits.

Specialized Care for Those in Need.

The dental needs of every patient are different. Personalized care is offered through regular cleanings at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic in Chennai. Our team has the expertise to help you not only with advice regarding sensitive teeth but also with advice associated with braces or persistent dental issues. Going to all your appointments gets your individual concerns addressed, and maintains your optimal oral health.

Why Choose Dr. Arun Care Dental Clinic in Chennai?

We give the utmost priority to patient welfare and comfortable dental treatment, at Dr. Arun Care Dental Clinic in padi, and provide expert dental treatment to protect and improve your oral health. We, as the most trusted dental clinic in Chennai, have our state of the art facility and team of experience at our services, from the patients of Villivakkam, Mogappair and more.

Key reasons to choose us include:

•Comprehensive Care: Whether you require restorative dentistry or advanced dental treatments, we have your preventative cleanings and more.

•Well Experienced Dentists: We have years of experience with caring about patients and keeping them happy.

• Patient Education: Our approach is to empower the patient with information that is pertinent to his/ her oral health.

• Convenient Locations: We are using premises in Villivakkam and Mogappair which are easily approachable to the people of that particular area in Chennai.

Conclusion

At the start of things, it seems harmless to skip your dental cleaning appointments, but it has far-reaching consequences. Regular cleanings at Dr. Arun Care Dental Clinic in Villivakkam, Chennai help you prevent gum disease, before these problems worsen and become harder to cure or even have the potential to escalate farther and develop into something more serious like heart disease.

Don’t wait until something that should be minor becomes a huge deal. Call the leading dental clinic in Chennai and make an appointment now to start taking a step forward to having a healthier and brighter smile. We at Dr Arun Care Dental Clinic pay special attention to your oral health and are here to guide you throughout your lifetime of good dental hygiene.

Now is the time to protect your smile book that next dental cleaning

[zany1122]

Root Canal In Mumbai

The center prides in serving the best climate to their patients where they can feel good. Dental specialist possesses astoundingly gifted and qualified dental specialists and staff who begin treating their patients right starting from the earliest stage.

With the Root Canal in Mumbai , every patient gets a redone treatment plan, which guarantees that their pain points are settled.

What Is Root Waterway? At our center, Root Waterway Medicines are finished with part of care as the treatment incorporates relieving and treating issues of tainted mash tissue in the tooth. Delaying the issues of the mash can make injury the tooth, profound rot, rehashed dental methodology, chips and breaks. The treatment is fundamentally finished for eliminating the tainted mash tissue.

Our right sort of regard for definite finding, cross breed framework and in view of side effects like noticeable injury, tooth enlarging, temperature awareness, extreme agony in tooth or gums, we propose you to embrace root trench medicines. Our concentration for root trench in Kandivaliis generally reliable in giving you least seating arrangement and satisfaction of giving you effortless arrangements.

Why Pick Our Facility For Root Trench Medicines? # We have one of the most amazing root waterway dental specialists in Thakur Town.

# Our ensured root trench master specialists can pay all due respects to your inquiries and can give you unfathomable simplicity.

# Now and again the tainted mash tissue might spread over the tooth bringing about boil. On the aggravated region the puss gets amassed and brings about enlarging around the tooth. We really do have tremendous noteworthiness and giving you 100 percent achievement rate even if there should arise an occurrence of perplexing treatment.

# Logical application:- At our facility we utilize elastic dam applications that is finished sterile and consequently expands the achievement pace of RCT.

# We follow the severe discipline of effective gel to give easy arrangements in any event, for infusions.

# We have long story rundown of believability and have even assisted the patients who with having issues of dental uneasiness.

# On account of outrageous restless patients our PCPs truly do offer quick arrangements of Intra-venous dentistry that can help a ton in accomplishing more significant level of solace during treatments.\

What Could I at any point Eat after Root Channel Treatment? The impacts of the sedation will keep going for around a few hours. That implies your gums, cheeks, lips, and so forth will feel numb. After the system, you can drink fluids at room temperature immediately.

Try not to eat or drink anything until the sedation has worn off. Since you could nibble your lips or cheeks and end up with a ulcer. These wounds are white and red fixes that can hurt. They will be better in 3-5 days.

We normally advise our patients to eat before they come in for their methodology with the goal that they will not be ravenous for the following a few hours. Try not to drink tea or espresso that is excessively hot, in light of the fact that it could consume your tongue. At the point when you’re under sedation, you don’t feel how hot or cold your lips and tongue are.

Day 1 decide on delicate food sources like rice, juices, idli, khichdi, soup, and so on. Try not to eat nuts, carrots, chikki, and other hard food sources.

You should try to understand that your tooth needs an opportunity to recuperate. After a root waterway, it could hurt for a little while, yet it will improve. Stay away from things that are too hard in light of the fact that they can exacerbate the aggravation. After we put the cap on, you can eat ordinary food once more. From that point forward, all in all nothing remains to be stressed over.

Does Root Trench Treatment Hurt?

No! Getting a root channel doesn’t do any harm. We will give you a pain reliever to take after your treatment. With the goal that you don’t feel torment once the sedation wears off. We just give anti-infection agents to individuals who need them.

Individuals frequently take Crocin or Combiflam to dial down the agony and put treatment since they are apprehensive. The issue with this is that it could make your teeth separate much more. You could try and have to get the tooth pulled. At the point when you have a contamination in your tooth, it can hurt a ton and in some cases even make you puff up. So it’s ideal to get it treated straightaway.

After the neighborhood sedation makes you numb, you feel nothing. We utilize exceptional gels and showers before the sedation with the goal that you don’t feel the prick of the needle. Come to Dentech in Thane, Mumbai and experience a pleasant root trench treatment

[bestdentistinranip]

7 Post-Care Tips for Root Canal Therapy in Ranip

Root canal treatment is a highly effective procedure for saving teeth that are damaged or infected. Whether you’ve undergone root canal treatment in Ahmedabad or are planning for one soon, understanding the right post-care tips is essential for a smooth and quick recovery. Proper care after the procedure not only speeds up healing but also prevents potential complications, ensuring long-term oral health.

This article outlines the importance of root canal treatment and provides detailed post-care tips recommended by the best dentists in Ranip.

Importance of Root Canal Treatment in Ahmedabad

Root canal treatment, also referred to as endodontic therapy, is performed to save severely decayed, infected, or damaged tooth. When the pulp inside a tooth becomes inflamed or infected due to deep decay, cracks, or repeated dental procedures, a root canal is the only way to eliminate the infection and preserve the natural tooth.

If left untreated, an infected tooth can cause immense pain, swelling, and even the loss of the tooth. Root canal therapy in Ranip is a trusted solution to remove the infection, relieve pain, and restore oral health.

The procedure is simple and virtually painless when performed by experienced dentists. The key benefit of a root canal is that it retains the natural tooth structure, preventing the need for dental implants or bridges. Many dental clinics in Ahmedabad specialize in advanced root canal therapies to ensure patients get the best care and long-lasting results.

However, the success of the treatment also depends on how well you care for your teeth post-procedure. Let’s explore the best post-care tips to follow after undergoing root canal therapy in Ranip.

Post-Care Tips for Root Canal Therapy in Ranip

Proper post-treatment care is vital for quick recovery and long-term success. Follow these tips provided by the best dentists in Ranip to ensure your root canal treatment heals effectively:

1. Take Prescribed Medications as Directed

After the root canal treatment in Ahmedabad, your dentist may prescribe antibiotics to prevent infection and painkillers to manage discomfort. Follow the prescription carefully and take all the medications as directed. Do not skip doses, as this can slow the healing process or allow the infection to return.

If you experience persistent pain or swelling despite taking medications, consult your dentist immediately. The professionals at the best dental clinics in Ahmedabad will help assess the situation and provide necessary care.

2. Avoid Chewing on the Treated Tooth

Your teeth might feel tender for a few days after the root canal therapy in Ranip, and chewing on it can cause discomfort or damage. Until the final crown or filling is placed, avoid chewing or biting hard foods on the treated side of your mouth.

Soft foods like yogurt, soup, mashed potatoes, and smoothies are great options during the healing period. Protecting the treated tooth allows it to heal and prevents additional damage.

3. Maintain Excellent Oral Hygiene

Good oral hygiene is essential after root canal treatment in Ranip, Ahmedabad. Continue brushing and floss as usual but be gentle around the treated tooth. Use a soft-bristled toothbrush and avoid vigorous brushing that may irritate the area.

Rinsing your mouth with a warm saltwater solution (a teaspoon of salt in a glass of warm water) can also help reduce swelling and keep the area clean. Regular oral hygiene will prevent bacteria from accumulating and causing further issues.

4. Watch for Any Signs of Complications

While root canal treatment is highly successful, complications can arise in rare cases. Keep an eye out for symptoms like severe pain, persistent swelling, discharge from the treated area, or fever. These could indicate an infection or other issues that require immediate attention.

Visit your dentist promptly if you experience any of these symptoms. The best dentists in Ranip will evaluate your condition and take the necessary measures to ensure a smooth recovery.

5. Eat a Balanced and Tooth-Friendly Diet

What you eat after a root canal treatment in Ahmedabad plays a significant role in your recovery. Stick to soft, nutrient-rich foods to promote healing and reduce strain on the treated tooth. Avoid hard, crunchy, or sticky foods that can dislodge the temporary filling or damage the tooth.

Incorporate foods rich in vitamins and minerals, such as fruits, vegetables, dairy, and lean proteins. Proper nutrition will support your body’s natural healing process and help keep your teeth and gums healthy.

6. Attend Follow-Up Appointments

After the root canal procedure, your dentist will schedule follow-up appointments to check the healing progress and place a permanent crown or filling. It is crucial to attend these appointments to complete the treatment successfully.

Skipping follow-ups can leave the tooth unprotected, increasing the risk of reinfection or fracture. The best dental clinics in Ahmedabad prioritize post-treatment care to ensure long-lasting results and patient satisfaction.

7. Avoid Smoking and Alcohol

Smoking and alcohol consumption can interfere with the healing process after root canal treatment in Ranip. Tobacco and alcohol can slow down recovery, irritate the gums, and increase the risk of infection.

If possible, avoid smoking and drinking alcohol for at least a few days after the procedure. This will promote faster healing and reduce complications.

Concluding Notes

Root canal therapy in Ranip is a valuable dental procedure that saves infected teeth and restores oral health. While the treatment itself is straightforward, proper post-care is essential for ensuring a smooth recovery and long-term success. By following these post-treatment tips, including maintaining oral hygiene, avoiding hard foods, and attending follow-up appointments, you can enjoy a pain-free and healthy smile.

If you are experiencing tooth pain, or infection, or need professional dental care, consult the best dentists in Ranip at Smile Dental Clinic & Implant Centre. Our team specializes in root canal therapy in Ranip and other dental treatments to restore your oral health and keep your smile healthy.

Schedule your appointment today with Smile Dental Clinic & Implant Centre, one of the leading dental clinics in Ahmedabad. Let dentist Khushbu Modi provide you with the best root canal treatment and post-care guidance for a healthy, pain-free smile. To learn more or to book a consultation, please visit https://thesmiledental.in/services/root-canal-treatment/