I am presently on the positive side of a toothache that ended up being an infection.
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The days leading up to my dental appointment, my friend Marty asked me, on a scale from 1 to 10, my level of pain.
Without hesitation I said “a solid 7 heading to a solid 8.“
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It became all consuming, so much so that I took most of Monday and Tuesday off from work, because I literally could not have cared less, and my diplomacy was rapidly flying away with the migrating birds.
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I had not known how truly uncomfortable and stressful an issue this was, until I went to the dentist on Wednesday morning and agreed to remove my back tooth and anti-biotic the crap out of me.
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In total, I was in and out of the building within 40 minutes, a wee bit traumatised, but head-wise feeling like I had been set free.
Which made me realise that I had been dealing with this tooth and gum thing longer than 2 weeks.
The immediate gratification was THAT settling.
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From injection of that numbing stuff to the extraction, which had to be 5 minutes tops, I was white-knuckle clutching my shaking hands and trying to distract my brain from openly bawling in the chair.
I wasn’t in any danger.
I was just so vulnerable, nervous, and filled with a self-inflicted disappointed Vanity.
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My efforts to play it cool were useless, as both the doctor and Rebecca the assistant repeatedly told me I was “doing great.”
And, when done, the doctor came back in twice to ask Rebecca, “is she alright?”
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I know what I must have looked like. I wear all my emotions on my face.
Then, after my co-worker Macy shared her own dentist story, I now know that I was absolutely not their first nor their last nervous Nelly.
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By the next hour, I had collected my prescription from the local pharmacy and bought half a quart of plain Greek yoghurt, which was to be my only food ’til last night.
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I’ve a couple days left to finish my infection fighting meds … following verbatim the directions on the bottle and those given to me by Rebecca: 4 times a day for 7 days until empty … regardless of how I feel.
Day 4 and I’ve been at pain level zero since Wednesday afternoon.
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I’m ready to get back to my haricots-verts and garbonzo-bean dinners.
To get back to a full week of work.
To take the focus off my mouth.
To perhaps leave behind those freakish dreams about teeth.
And to look forward to buying tickets for my November trip back to England.
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A big shout out to the doctor and Rebecca, who I hope to only see in the hallways as I head to my cleaning appointment.
And a warm virtual hug and thank you to Marty, for being the soothing voice in my head before, during and after. You, I will see in about 5 weeks.
Happy Saturday.