Healing

Now that I'm finally healing from the whole "tooth yanked from my head" experience, I feel ready to tell the story.

It all started on Sunday evening. A tooth that hadn't bothered me in forever, but was badly broken off, was really hurting. I took some Motrin and tried several other things to take the edge off. At around 11pm I tried to go to bed for the night but I absolutely could not get comfortable. I got up and basically paced until around 2am when I woke up the King. He went to the store to try and find some type of numbing medication that would help. He bought 4 different kinds out of desperation and brought them home for me to try. Unfortunately the pain stayed steady for the rest of the night.

I called my dentist first thing in the morning and changed my Tuesday filling appointment to an extraction. The pain persisted but it did become more bearable over the next day or so. By Tuesday morning I was ready to do whatever necessary for pain relief. To paint a better picture the tooth that was hurting was my last molar on the bottom right hand side. Not a tooth visible when smiling, nor a huge deal when eating. According to my dentist the most important molar in your mouth is the one just before this one.

When I was called back to begin the process the Dentist first looked in my mouth. He expressed a slight concern that this tooth might not just "come right out." This made me a little nervous. He gave me 3 shots of Novocaine, which by the way hurt like the dickens. The syringe looked about as big around as pop can and the medicine, I'm not kidding, was the viscosity of maple syrup. I had to remind myself that this was all part of ending this horrible 2 day long toothache.

It all went down hill from there. I have never had a tooth pulled before, so I really don't know what normal is, but this was something you might see in a horror movie. The noises were hideous and the tools looked like they came from the King's tool belt, not a medical facility. After much effort he came to the conclusion that this tooth was not going to cooperate. They took my blood pressure, had me sign some papers, and decided to surgically remove it. I distinctly remember thinking I wasn't entirely okay with being awake during any kind of surgery. But again, if the ends justify the means, I cooperated.

I remained calm until I heard the word "scalpal." What? Fear surged through my body and was amplified when the first incision was made and I was not entirely numb. I was immediately given several more "horse shots" and lost all feeling and I'm pretty sure touch with reality as well. I don't know exactly how much more time went by. I do remember seeing the Dentist's forearm muscles bulging and shaking as he extracted my beligerant molar. When it finally came out I could sense the relief in the room. I was stitched up and biting on gauze in no time. When it was clear I wasn't going to pass out I was allowed to sit up and orient myself. I couldn't feel anything at all just swelling and numbness. The Dentist and his assistant were very nice telling me how good I had done. I distinctly remember pushing at his arms a few times, but he was very forgiving.

I left the office and haven't had much pain at all since, which is good because I'm still nursing and narcotics are a no no. It's more irritating than painful. I'm so relieved to have the acute pain gone that I can handle a little irritation here and there.

Moral of this long and rambling story: They are called permanent teeth for a reason. Evicting them is a long and difficult process, so try and work something out.