It's true. My dentist finally sealed off my root canal this afternoon.
Of course, it couldn't just be a simple post and crown, could it? No. Of course not. Of course, his mainframe had to have died last week, so he's got this loaner unit that mills crowns (yeah, he's all high-tech like that) only apparently? This loaner unit? Is on quaaludes or something.
Because it froze while preparing the image. Twice. Yay.
Ok, I realise this makes mostly no sense unless you've seen one of these in action. It's sort of like auto-CAD for teeth (now there's something you don't hear every day). It takes a before picture, and then after your tooth is ground down and the post is in, it takes an after picture, and then you go in and sort of auto-CAD the patient's tooth until it looks exactly right, and then you hit "ok" and it mills a brandy-new shiny porcelain crown.
Except it didn't.
Twice.
My half-hour appointment? Was three hours. Fortunately I had lots of Dante's Divine Comedy to keep me occupied, but boy was the dentist pissed. And by 2:15, my ass was sound asleep in the chair.
But seriously. Did he really think that anything about this whole procedure was going to happen easily, as planned? Really-really?
Yeah, me either.
Anyway, IT'S OVER. Except when I go back for one more post-op visit to the surgeon at the end of next month. Done done done no more pus volcanoes hooray.
(In other news, apparently my brain has gone on strike because I cannot make myself grade the eight papers I have to turn back tomorrow morning. Cannot. Make. Myself. They've been staring at me all day. And I can't pick up the pen.)
14 July 2010
Grand Finale!, Wherein FireCat Finally Conquers the Pus Volcano!
Coming soon to an oral cavity near you.
Interlude, Wherein FireCat Solves a Ghastly Household Mystery (2 days ago)
Meanwhile, I have solved a ghastly mystery in my house. I had been noticing sporadically since the first of the month (the change date in these parts) that on occasion my toothbrush felt kind of damp in the mornings. I attributed it to its placement in the cup near other people's toothbrushes that had been recently used, the fact that it's been so damn humid, evaporation, etc.
This morning it was sopping wet, and I went stomping downstairs with my toothbrush in my fist: Did someone use this toothbrush this morning?
Turns out that my dad thinks the purple toothbrush is his. And has been using it twice a day lo these past two weeks.
EEEEUUUUUUGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHHHHH!!!!!
(and the reason I didn't immediately switch toothbrushes and start using the blue one is because hello--it's huge. How could he think that that toothbrush could fit in anyone else's mouth around here???)
Thank God I'll be having oral surgery this afternoon and will not be allowed to brush my teeth for at least 24 hours, which will give me enough time for (a) the evil to wear off, and (b) someone else to go buy a new shiny toothbrush for me. And his name is John.
Just sayin.
This morning it was sopping wet, and I went stomping downstairs with my toothbrush in my fist: Did someone use this toothbrush this morning?
Turns out that my dad thinks the purple toothbrush is his. And has been using it twice a day lo these past two weeks.
EEEEUUUUUUGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHHHHH!!!!!
(and the reason I didn't immediately switch toothbrushes and start using the blue one is because hello--it's huge. How could he think that that toothbrush could fit in anyone else's mouth around here???)
Thank God I'll be having oral surgery this afternoon and will not be allowed to brush my teeth for at least 24 hours, which will give me enough time for (a) the evil to wear off, and (b) someone else to go buy a new shiny toothbrush for me. And his name is John.
Just sayin.
Toothgate Continues (14 days ago)
I've been off antibiotics since Thursday night. I have an appointment tomorrow to actually finally finish this root canal.
And my face is swelling up again, with associated tooth pain.
Awesome.
Someone you know will be having oral surgery very, very soon.
The thing that annoys me greatly right now is that I start teaching summer classes today. Which means that either (a) I will be teaching the day after having oral surgery, or (b) I will have to either cancel or find a fill-in for my class. And that is deeply frustrating (especially since--hello, this has been going on since Memorial Day.)
I just can't imagine that aspect of it being fun. I'm more or less ok with the idea of the surgery. It won't be the worst thing that's happened to me.
Plus, we still have lime popsicles in the freezer.
Here is a portrait of me, opening wide:
:-o
And my face is swelling up again, with associated tooth pain.
Awesome.
Someone you know will be having oral surgery very, very soon.
The thing that annoys me greatly right now is that I start teaching summer classes today. Which means that either (a) I will be teaching the day after having oral surgery, or (b) I will have to either cancel or find a fill-in for my class. And that is deeply frustrating (especially since--hello, this has been going on since Memorial Day.)
I just can't imagine that aspect of it being fun. I'm more or less ok with the idea of the surgery. It won't be the worst thing that's happened to me.
Plus, we still have lime popsicles in the freezer.
Here is a portrait of me, opening wide:
:-o
Spongeworthy (22 days ago)
So. You know that sponge? Sponge to fill the hole in my tooth and allow the abscess to continue to drain, while I'm still too infected for a temporary filling?
I ate it.
Seriously. I looked in my mouth this afternoon whilst flossing, and.....it's gone. And I didn't notice it any time I spat into the sink in the past 24 hours. Which means there's only one place it could have gone.
I don't know why the idea of eating a teeny, orange little pus-filled piece of dental sponge is more disgusting to me than.....well, no, wait. I think I do know why.
Ew ew ew ew. Fortunately, I'm going in tomorrow for an update. And my face is still partly swollen, thankyouverymuch.
Thanks, though, for allowing me to tell funny stories about this. Otherwise, it'd be LAME AND HORRIBLE. Now it's just funny. And lame. And mostly funny.
No, well, mostly lame, but at least very funny.
I ate it.
Seriously. I looked in my mouth this afternoon whilst flossing, and.....it's gone. And I didn't notice it any time I spat into the sink in the past 24 hours. Which means there's only one place it could have gone.
I don't know why the idea of eating a teeny, orange little pus-filled piece of dental sponge is more disgusting to me than.....well, no, wait. I think I do know why.
Ew ew ew ew. Fortunately, I'm going in tomorrow for an update. And my face is still partly swollen, thankyouverymuch.
Thanks, though, for allowing me to tell funny stories about this. Otherwise, it'd be LAME AND HORRIBLE. Now it's just funny. And lame. And mostly funny.
No, well, mostly lame, but at least very funny.
FireCat vs. the Pus Volcano (25 days ago)
Oh my god, the saga continues! Isn't this awesome? You get serial installments of the pus volcano story! (mmm, cereal....)
Anyway. I went to the dentist today, for what was supposed to be the end of my root canal. I told him that I'd taken Flagyl for five days and couldn't stand it anymore, that I stopped yesterday morning and could almost eat again, and to please take a look at that one small, hard bump at the root of the tooth he was working on.
He poked it.
I leapt out of the chair.
He poked it again.
I considered the mechanics involved in garrotting him with his tie (which was a lovely blue silk abstract, btw).
He poked it again.
Dude. Mark. CUT THAT OUT.
He decided at that point that there was no way he could lance it from the gumline at the moment, give him a minute while he put on his jacket so as not to get the pus volcano all over his lovely tie.
Whaaaaaat?
Yes, more draining, more pus and infection, more orangeness, more stank and gack and ewwwww and omg why are there chunks in my mouth?
All activity halts while the tech fills me up a cup of mouthwash so fast I thought she'd get whiplash and I rinse the chunky bits out of my mouth and say things that would make my mother blush and my father proud (and curious).
He then proceeds to start massaging my gum, which in addition to producing more....stuff....makes me realise the specifics of what he's actually doing in there. Fortunately I have a very well-trained gag reflex (and let's not even go there).
Short version: MOAR ANTIBIOTICS, hopefully a kind that will keep me from puking. Seriously, I haven't been on penicillin since I was like, twelve.
I remain, however, a little bit alarmed that the first side effect listed is "black hairy tongue."
Really, could they get any more foul??
Cris suggested I might need a face-ectomy. Now there's an idea.
I am now off to google "black hairy tongue" so I know what to be on the lookout for. Somehow, I'm picturing something akin to my fat, one-eyed cat asleep on my bed. It's probably not that cute, is it.
(update: Nope. It is not.)
Although, I don't know. The idea of my tongue having its own moustache is kind of intriguing, on second thought.
Anyway. I went to the dentist today, for what was supposed to be the end of my root canal. I told him that I'd taken Flagyl for five days and couldn't stand it anymore, that I stopped yesterday morning and could almost eat again, and to please take a look at that one small, hard bump at the root of the tooth he was working on.
He poked it.
I leapt out of the chair.
He poked it again.
I considered the mechanics involved in garrotting him with his tie (which was a lovely blue silk abstract, btw).
He poked it again.
Dude. Mark. CUT THAT OUT.
He decided at that point that there was no way he could lance it from the gumline at the moment, give him a minute while he put on his jacket so as not to get the pus volcano all over his lovely tie.
Whaaaaaat?
Yes, more draining, more pus and infection, more orangeness, more stank and gack and ewwwww and omg why are there chunks in my mouth?
All activity halts while the tech fills me up a cup of mouthwash so fast I thought she'd get whiplash and I rinse the chunky bits out of my mouth and say things that would make my mother blush and my father proud (and curious).
He then proceeds to start massaging my gum, which in addition to producing more....stuff....makes me realise the specifics of what he's actually doing in there. Fortunately I have a very well-trained gag reflex (and let's not even go there).
Short version: MOAR ANTIBIOTICS, hopefully a kind that will keep me from puking. Seriously, I haven't been on penicillin since I was like, twelve.
I remain, however, a little bit alarmed that the first side effect listed is "black hairy tongue."
Really, could they get any more foul??
Cris suggested I might need a face-ectomy. Now there's an idea.
I am now off to google "black hairy tongue" so I know what to be on the lookout for. Somehow, I'm picturing something akin to my fat, one-eyed cat asleep on my bed. It's probably not that cute, is it.
(update: Nope. It is not.)
Although, I don't know. The idea of my tongue having its own moustache is kind of intriguing, on second thought.
What in Plaid Rabbit Hell? Again? (30 days ago)
I woke up this morning at 5 AM with a painfully familiar feeling in my lower right jaw......
.....that's right, kids, my face is swelling up again and my dentist is in Vermont! (he either has way too much free time on his hands or his junior-in-high-school daughter is looking at UVM)
He called in a prescription for another antibiotic. I can't take e-mycin because it makes my head spin round and I puke yellow bile with red-and-white spots. (which might have been the pill, actually.) So instead he put me on flagyl.
What the hell, dude? Flagyl is like, antibiotics on steroids. They give you flagyl when you have giardia. They give you flagyl when you have flesh-eating bacteria that is trying to take your face off.
Oh, wait.
So, yeah. And I'm leaving the pharmacy counter when I get this gem of advice: "NO ALCOHOL. Seriously. None. You'll puke. A lot. I've done it. It's awful. So don't drink."
Whaaaaaat? A weekend in June when the limes are ripe and my parents aren't around? And I can't drink???
Nope. Apparently not even the communion wine (the pharmacy tech happens to go to my parents' church, so she actually was very thoughtful to bring that up. Not that I go all that often, but it wouldn't even have occurred to me.)
Um.......seriously. What......theeee......hell? Apparently my pain tolerance is too high, because there's no way this should have gotten where it did before it started to hurt. In the meantime, here's hoping they don't have to drain the abscess again, since apparently, you know, there still is one, and everything. In the meantime, I'll just be sitting here, impersonating my very tubby-faced cat Daphne:
..
( )
The good news? There's less pain the more it swells. Wait. Is that really good news? Anyway, I'm down to two Advil before bedtime and two when I wake up in the morning. Much better than four Advil every four hours.
The bad news? Have I mentioned the part about no wine?
.....that's right, kids, my face is swelling up again and my dentist is in Vermont! (he either has way too much free time on his hands or his junior-in-high-school daughter is looking at UVM)
He called in a prescription for another antibiotic. I can't take e-mycin because it makes my head spin round and I puke yellow bile with red-and-white spots. (which might have been the pill, actually.) So instead he put me on flagyl.
What the hell, dude? Flagyl is like, antibiotics on steroids. They give you flagyl when you have giardia. They give you flagyl when you have flesh-eating bacteria that is trying to take your face off.
Oh, wait.
So, yeah. And I'm leaving the pharmacy counter when I get this gem of advice: "NO ALCOHOL. Seriously. None. You'll puke. A lot. I've done it. It's awful. So don't drink."
Whaaaaaat? A weekend in June when the limes are ripe and my parents aren't around? And I can't drink???
Nope. Apparently not even the communion wine (the pharmacy tech happens to go to my parents' church, so she actually was very thoughtful to bring that up. Not that I go all that often, but it wouldn't even have occurred to me.)
Um.......seriously. What......theeee......hell? Apparently my pain tolerance is too high, because there's no way this should have gotten where it did before it started to hurt. In the meantime, here's hoping they don't have to drain the abscess again, since apparently, you know, there still is one, and everything. In the meantime, I'll just be sitting here, impersonating my very tubby-faced cat Daphne:
..
( )
The good news? There's less pain the more it swells. Wait. Is that really good news? Anyway, I'm down to two Advil before bedtime and two when I wake up in the morning. Much better than four Advil every four hours.
The bad news? Have I mentioned the part about no wine?
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