First of all, before you ask if I feel better, no--I feel numb. And for the next twelve hours I'll likely feel worse. But after that, I'll feel better.
Second, wowie! I've never managed to make my dentist go "eeeeew!" before. Apparently there's a first time for everything. Remember that pus that Cris sure was there, even though there was no visible infection on the x-ray? Yeah. He drilled, and created a little ol' tooth geyser. Yellow, green, orange--we're talking a veritable rainbow of infectious matter squirting out of what had once been the nerve of my tooth.
Awesome.
Now, mind you, I did not get to see any of this, because (a) I am not flexible enough to see into my own mouth, and (b) I make a habit of keeping my eyes firmly squinched shut whilst at the dentist, but let me tell you, I smelled it.
Oh. My. God. The stench? Of an infected root, coming into contact with air for the first time? Dude. I've smelled dead bodies that were less offensive than this. And I'm not even kidding. At one point he had to take the stuff out of my mouth so I could gag unencumbered.
So--yeah. The short version is, I in fact had a raging infection in my jaw, which unlike the BP oil disaster has now successfully been siphoned off and capped....at least temporarily, since, of course, we have to make sure the infection's all gone. But My. Goodness. Of all the offensive things! Phew!
He also said that for such a petite lady, I had the longest damn teeth he'd ever seen. So....wait a minute, dude, did you just call me long in the tooth? Hmmmm.
14 July 2010
Drill Baby Drill (40 days ago)
My face has not fallen off. I am still on drugs (as you can probably tell). There is apparently not a single dentist in the tri-state area who has office hours on Friday. My dentist is opening his office at 8 tomorrow morning--which reminds me, I forgot to ask who's bringing the coffee--to rectify the situation.
Yeah, my face is still swollen, and I'm having fun scaring the cats. The ice pack is delightful, the percocet is even better, and apparently being slightly delirious doesn't affect research on A Midsummer Night's Dream at all, because the play itself is so trippy.
That's the scoop from here.
The really good news about temporary disfigurement is that, really, I haven't had to go out in public. I mean, I've had to go to Shakespeare class three times, but....I mean, it's grad school. They've all seen me in worse shape than this.
Yeah, my face is still swollen, and I'm having fun scaring the cats. The ice pack is delightful, the percocet is even better, and apparently being slightly delirious doesn't affect research on A Midsummer Night's Dream at all, because the play itself is so trippy.
That's the scoop from here.
The really good news about temporary disfigurement is that, really, I haven't had to go out in public. I mean, I've had to go to Shakespeare class three times, but....I mean, it's grad school. They've all seen me in worse shape than this.
We Are No Longer Amused (42 days ago)
Well, the painkillers are mostly working (though, as many of you know, they have amusing unintended side effects and I apparently am much more fun when improperly medicated).
Apparently the antibiotics are not. I woke up at ten minutes to six this morning, not because there was a furry one-eyed monster tap-dancing on my head and meowing that it was breakfast time, but because I tried to roll over onto the right side of my face.....and it wasn't where I'd left it.
I have swollen up like a balloon. Or, more precisely, half a balloon.
Excuse me? I'm taking 1500 mg of amoxicillin a day, and 800 mg of ibuprofen (an anti-inflammatory, you may recall) every four hours, and instead of better, this thing is getting worse?
Yeah, I don't think so.
However, it was in fact ten of six, so I went downstairs, did a little proactive cat-feeding, grabbed an ice pack, stuck it on my face, took four more Advil, and went back to bed for a few hours.
And woke up at 9:00 still looking and feeling like a chipmunk. Awesome. My dentist is out of town today, and the on-call guy doesn't open until 10:30. Which is good, because now I have time to shower and have my morning mug of tea so I can be human when I call him and say "OH MY GOD THERE'S AN ALIEN GROWING OUT OF MY MANDIBLE."
The good news is, it doesn't really hurt. Apparently in the course of the swelling, it must be pressing on some nerves, because instead? It's sort of...tingling. Awesome.
Yeah. So totally not the look and feel I was going for today.
So, my friend Cris (a former dental tech) was right. There undoubtedly is an abscess going on there that we just couldn't see on film. Because, really, what are the chances of an actual tooth-eating alien?
Apparently the antibiotics are not. I woke up at ten minutes to six this morning, not because there was a furry one-eyed monster tap-dancing on my head and meowing that it was breakfast time, but because I tried to roll over onto the right side of my face.....and it wasn't where I'd left it.
I have swollen up like a balloon. Or, more precisely, half a balloon.
Excuse me? I'm taking 1500 mg of amoxicillin a day, and 800 mg of ibuprofen (an anti-inflammatory, you may recall) every four hours, and instead of better, this thing is getting worse?
Yeah, I don't think so.
However, it was in fact ten of six, so I went downstairs, did a little proactive cat-feeding, grabbed an ice pack, stuck it on my face, took four more Advil, and went back to bed for a few hours.
And woke up at 9:00 still looking and feeling like a chipmunk. Awesome. My dentist is out of town today, and the on-call guy doesn't open until 10:30. Which is good, because now I have time to shower and have my morning mug of tea so I can be human when I call him and say "OH MY GOD THERE'S AN ALIEN GROWING OUT OF MY MANDIBLE."
The good news is, it doesn't really hurt. Apparently in the course of the swelling, it must be pressing on some nerves, because instead? It's sort of...tingling. Awesome.
Yeah. So totally not the look and feel I was going for today.
So, my friend Cris (a former dental tech) was right. There undoubtedly is an abscess going on there that we just couldn't see on film. Because, really, what are the chances of an actual tooth-eating alien?
Ohmygod, I Can't Feel My Face (43 days ago)
Mind you, it's not that my face has gone numb, but get this--I'm not in mind-bending discomfort! Woooooo!
Yeah, the percocet is working waaaay better than the vicodin did. And, the antibiotics. Which, by the way, are going to kill every microorganism within a ten foot radius of my face, so you might want to keep your pet amoeba away from me for the next while.
And yes, I will be ODing on yoghurt as well, since we're in the habit of oversharing.
Oh god, I cannot tell you how happy I am that this stuff works. I'd been taking Advil all day, because my first summer session started tonight, so I couldn't take the painkiller until now. Yeah, three hours of un-air-conditioned Shakespeare on percocet? There's a fun time, no?
Awesome.
Yayayayayayay, I only feel moderate stupidity in the area of that tooth! Not exactly pain, more like....concentrated stupidity. And, really, I'm ok with the idea of a root canal. At this point, it will be a relief. I know people say they hurt, but seriously? Compared to last night? It'll be like a bowl of ice cream. With sprinkles, and chocolate sauce.
Yeah, the percocet is working waaaay better than the vicodin did. And, the antibiotics. Which, by the way, are going to kill every microorganism within a ten foot radius of my face, so you might want to keep your pet amoeba away from me for the next while.
And yes, I will be ODing on yoghurt as well, since we're in the habit of oversharing.
Oh god, I cannot tell you how happy I am that this stuff works. I'd been taking Advil all day, because my first summer session started tonight, so I couldn't take the painkiller until now. Yeah, three hours of un-air-conditioned Shakespeare on percocet? There's a fun time, no?
Awesome.
Yayayayayayay, I only feel moderate stupidity in the area of that tooth! Not exactly pain, more like....concentrated stupidity. And, really, I'm ok with the idea of a root canal. At this point, it will be a relief. I know people say they hurt, but seriously? Compared to last night? It'll be like a bowl of ice cream. With sprinkles, and chocolate sauce.
The Saga Begins (45 days ago)
Y'all, I have a toothache the size of Chicago. Long about Friday morning five o'clock, I realised this. My dentist, of course, does not have office hours on Fridays, so I made a mental note to call first thing Tuesday morning (since, of course, nobody works Memorial Day if they can help it). In the meantime, I dosed myself with Advil.
Well, here it is Monday night, and I can't freaking stand it. Two Advil and two Tylenol every four hours (as prescribed by said dentist for a previous weekend pain while he was away for the weekend.....did I mention I live in a really small town and actually have my dentist's cell phone number? Also, my dad is his deacon. Anyway.) has stopped being even remotely effective, as of sometime last night. Even gin and tonics weren't quite as soothing as they usually are.
But today? Oh. My. God. Before supper I was sitting on the front porch, among the begonias and hanging plants, with A Midsummer Night's Dream critical contexts (summer school's idea of fun) and a glass of white wine....crying because it hurt so bad. My dad noticed during supper and bequeathed me a bottle of leftover painkillers. Yes, I am admitting to prescription fraud in public. I'm taking my daddy's hydrocodone and I don't care who knows it.
But seriously? I took one at 7:30, right during my salad. At ten, I took another one, because it was having no effect.
I have now had 1000 mg of Vicodin (which isn't even old, it's from Christmas) and it hasn't even made a dent in the pain. I should be comatose. What the hell, yo?
Well, here it is Monday night, and I can't freaking stand it. Two Advil and two Tylenol every four hours (as prescribed by said dentist for a previous weekend pain while he was away for the weekend.....did I mention I live in a really small town and actually have my dentist's cell phone number? Also, my dad is his deacon. Anyway.) has stopped being even remotely effective, as of sometime last night. Even gin and tonics weren't quite as soothing as they usually are.
But today? Oh. My. God. Before supper I was sitting on the front porch, among the begonias and hanging plants, with A Midsummer Night's Dream critical contexts (summer school's idea of fun) and a glass of white wine....crying because it hurt so bad. My dad noticed during supper and bequeathed me a bottle of leftover painkillers. Yes, I am admitting to prescription fraud in public. I'm taking my daddy's hydrocodone and I don't care who knows it.
But seriously? I took one at 7:30, right during my salad. At ten, I took another one, because it was having no effect.
I have now had 1000 mg of Vicodin (which isn't even old, it's from Christmas) and it hasn't even made a dent in the pain. I should be comatose. What the hell, yo?
13 July 2010
A Post about a Series of Posts
Since Memorial Day, I've been undergoing one of the weirdest dental experiences ever--or at least, in my limited experience. I've been updating some message board friends about the Pus Volcano Chronicles, as they've come to be rather graphically known in those parts, and apparently the story is equal parts horrifying and amusing.
Well, the Pus Volcano Chronicles came to a head yesterday afternoon (um, ew) in the form of oral surgery. So today, here I sit, with plenty of free time, a box of lime popsicles, and almost as many ice packs surrounding my jaw. It might be the painkillers, but I've decided to migrate the Pus Volcano Chronicles to this blog. Stay tuned.
Well, the Pus Volcano Chronicles came to a head yesterday afternoon (um, ew) in the form of oral surgery. So today, here I sit, with plenty of free time, a box of lime popsicles, and almost as many ice packs surrounding my jaw. It might be the painkillers, but I've decided to migrate the Pus Volcano Chronicles to this blog. Stay tuned.
05 July 2010
Land of the Free, Home of the Whatever. No, Really.
On our little plot of land, there are three or four houses surrounded by a lot of trees, a couple of cornfields, and...well, some donkeys. The neighbours on one side are Italian-American. We're Irish-American. Neighbours on the other side are Mexican immigrants. The kids are all citizens, born here in the last seven years or so. Their parents are working on it, in the slow and paper-filled process of the INS. Maybe someday. A little up the road is a family of big, honkin' Greeks. About fifteen of them. Actually, they're pretty much the whole rest of the town I live in.
Fourth of July weekend here means one thing that you can get nowhere else in the world: the town's "Big Fat Greek Festival" on one side, with souvlaki and balalaika music in one ear, and Tejano and salsa music in the other ear as Tómas keeps trying to teach me the words to his favourite Los Tigres del Norte song and laughing like a lunatic when I mess it up, while mucking out stalls and waiting for it to be dark enough to light sparklers for his sons and nieces. They used to have a barbecue on Cinco de Mayo, but lately they've stopped doing that unless it falls on a weekend. These days they celebrate the Fourth with us, because "my kids are American, just like you. And me? Me maybe someday too."
Fourth of July weekend here means one thing that you can get nowhere else in the world: the town's "Big Fat Greek Festival" on one side, with souvlaki and balalaika music in one ear, and Tejano and salsa music in the other ear as Tómas keeps trying to teach me the words to his favourite Los Tigres del Norte song and laughing like a lunatic when I mess it up, while mucking out stalls and waiting for it to be dark enough to light sparklers for his sons and nieces. They used to have a barbecue on Cinco de Mayo, but lately they've stopped doing that unless it falls on a weekend. These days they celebrate the Fourth with us, because "my kids are American, just like you. And me? Me maybe someday too."
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