Monday, December 15, 2008

A new screw.

Today I went to the dentist. He's a friend and an awesome dentist. Going to see him is kind of like meeting a friend for a drink, minus, of course, the drink. Last week while brushing my teeth I noticed some tenderness on my gums. Closer inspection revealed a little bump that looked just like the one I had a few years back that led to a pulled tooth and a bone graft, followed by an implant. Babies were lost and a baby was born happy & well during the time it took to complete the task. At first Dr. J said he didn't think it was that again...even though my gut was saying, oh yes, it was. He took an x-ray and it showed nothing. He felt like maybe I had something stuck under my gum that was causing irritation. So he numbed me up, UGH I hate that feeling, then he poked around for half a second and said, "Sorry babe. You were right."

Off I went about a 5 minute walk east to see the oral surgeon. I was so shocked they could see me immediately, I didn't even think about what this would dredge up emotionally. Until. I. Was. Sitting. In. That. Chair. Again.

The OS took one look and said, "Yup Dr. J was right. This tooth is cracked and has to come out. Do you want to do another implant? If so we'll need to do another bone graft as you've lost a touch of bone, not as much as last time, but you need a strong foundation for the screw." My head was spinning as it had only been 15 minutes before that I was catching up, having a drink appointment, with Dr. J. I said, "wow this is not how I envisioned my afternoon." He said, "Well, we could wait, but it won't get better, or cheaper." I explained that no, I was not stalling I was just a bit in shock with it all. So he numbed me some more and said he'd be back in five minutes.

I'm not really sure how I held it together in those five minutes. Because it was incredible how much shit resurfaced. Quickly. So much pain. So much heartache. None of it had anything at all to do with a fucking tooth.

Here I sit, with another hole in my head...and coming to terms (again) with the fact that there are two holes in my heart will never be filled.

ETA: I forgot to mention both the oral surgeon and the pharmacist warned me that the antibiotics prescribed would alter the effectiveness of birth control pills. At least there were two laughs in my afternoon.


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