9/05/2012

Oral Surgeon (I've said this before)

September 4th, 2012, at approximately 1 second after the dentist's office closing, my tooth became a raging inferno of pain. I took ibuprofen, only to ask Husband less than an hour later WHERE THE HELL IS THE VICODIN?! PLEEEEAAAASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL PETE'S SAKE DON'T TELL ME WE THREW IT OUT! ...but we had. of course.
I was near tears. I didn't finish dinner (not me). I was warm and sweaty, and my sub-zero basement felt good (also not me). I knew exactly which tooth, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted it gone. With the assistance of many anti-inflammatory pills and topical gel, I barely held out until the dentist opened. Luckily they could see me today. Also luckily, the tooth could be pulled today. I actually responded, "Yay," albeit not enthusiastically, since I was still in severe pain. Surprising I had a word, considering I suspect all my interactions so far had sounded thus:
"Hey! Good morning!"
"Ow."
"How are you?"
"Ouchie, ow owie."
"Do you have your TPS report ready for the meeting?"
"Owwwww. Ouch."
Actual words made me optimistic that I was on my road to recovery, with a lighter oral load.
A few minutes later, I was in the chair, weathering bouts of severe pain interspersed with slightly less severe pain, more anxious for Novocaine than I have ever been, and then finally - it happened. The injections hurt, sure, but sweet relief was on its way. I asked if he could put something against my cheek, since last time my cheek was pretty mangled and it hurt me worse than the empty tooth socket. He said, "I don't usually do that. Your cheek really shouldn't be involved." Music to my ears. The doctor then warned me that I'd feel pressure, and that was such an understatement that I barely held my composure. He asked if I was okay, and I sort of waved my hand to indicate "not really." The pressure stopped. The doctor poked at me with a couple more instruments, but there was no more pain. He and his assistant began to pull away.
"You got it?" I and my widened eyes asked.
"Yep."
"Thank goodness. It is such a relief."
I was so relieved that I didn't whine too much at the doctor trying to talk me into having my last (not quite erupted) wisdom tooth pulled as soon as possible. I'm certainly not looking forward to that one, but compared to the last time, I actually didn't hate this procedure. I didn't even hate the doctor.