Written at the doctor’s joint:
At the office for a consultation. After this we will set up a date for The Procedure, as it’s called. I prefer to call it an Extraction Interlude during which I will not be person, after which I will awake drugged, swollen, confused, and hooked on painkillers. In fact I am already preparing for rehab. I have a satchel full of inspirational books and Enya CDs and posters printed on fake parchment that say inspirational things about yesterday being the last day of the first part of my life, or something.
Maybe it won’t be bad. I have this strange conviction that if I make everyone laugh then it will go okay, and I will survive, and will not have a stroke on the operating table. If it is a table. Probably a chair.
Now I am in the chair, waiting. Blood pressure was high, as expected; everything about these places (this is an oral surgery clinic, not a dentist’s office) brings back immense buried childhood anxiety, which I probably got from my mother, and have tried not to give to my daughter. So far so good; she has only basic natural trepidation. In fact she think’s it’s great I’m having the wisdom teeth out, since it’ll mean I will be doped up and funny. You may recall a few years ago I tweeted as the sedatives were taking hold; she still finds that funny. She wants me to do a video about it.
Had a merry chat with the tech on the way in. “So how’s it going today?” she asked, and I smiled and said “it’s going horribly, which is why I’m here.” She led to the room, gave me a pamphlet on my problem, which I declined, explaining I was waiting for the Kindle version.
Now typing this, waiting for the door
For the door to open. I stopped writing at that point. Met the doc; nice guy. We had a little chat about things. He was one of those friendly, hearty, utterly calm people you trust to put their hands inside your body when you’re not awake. I explained my position right off the bat: you can skip the technical details about what you need to do, and why; I’m really not interested in the particulars. When it’s done, we can chat. For now, let’s just figure out what needs to be done, set a date, and do it. Okay, doc? I’m a busy man.
Ha ha. Anyway, the “procedure” will be done next Monday, and between now and then, the howling silent song of pain. But here’s the thing: I have no idea how much of this preexisting condition was exacerbated by grinding my teeth, if that’s what I’m doing, and as my wife pointed out, that won’t stop after The Procedure. It’s psychological. It’s stress. It’s something that’s bothering me, churning up through my brain in the quietest hours, forcing me to gnash. I’m surprised I’m not rending my garments as well.
I note that a kind comment in the comments section suggested end-of-winter malaise as a cause for my disquiet, but I don’t think so; I know the beast is defeated. It has done its worse. (Three inches of snow predicted overnight, but pshaw.) Tonight I walked the dog around, and he was unhappy with the trip – he hates walking in puddles, and the snowbanks alongside the sidewalk are either too high to scale or too hard; when his leg goes through it’s like plunging a limb into a sleeve filled with shards of broken glass. At one point I noted that the snow on the boulevard is as tall as I am. Which is not a lot in human terms, but substantial in snow terms.
It will be gone in a month. So there’s that.
Anyway. You’ll forgive me if I’m short here tonight. It’s hard to focus. I’ve been dealing with this pain for a week now, and while there are good times (aspirin, yay!) and not so good times, you hit those points where you’re just so annoyed by it you want to do nothing but suck a morphine slurpee and study the ceiling fan for six hours.
Oh: the doctor did write some scripts for pain medications, which I am saving for showtime. Note I did not say “meds.” I hate that term. It’s infantile. You give “meds” to doddering droolers in hospital gowns, with a condescending tones: here’s your meds, Mister Gumms. Medication is a good sturdy word with a backbone. Anyway, it’s not like I’m the first person to play hurt; everyone has, or will have, periods of protracted discomfort. You could note that dental pain is unique, since it’s usually both sharp and throbbing and dull and uniquely electric and IN YOUR HEAD, which makes it particularly personal, but I don’t think we want to get into a contest of Pain Theaters to determine which is worse. Just know that everything on the site this week was done while a railroad spike was being hammered into the side of my jaw. And it’s still lite ‘n’ breezy! Ah, the indomitable human spirit.
Owwww.
Anyway, links: six lovely ads for bad-breath coughing sticks from the 30s, here; a delightful surprise in Black and White World: Countdown, here. Enjoy! Ouch.
Pass it along, if you wish
72 Responses to Ouch, con’t
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@Wagner – you’re right, that’s a gem. I love the kid star who finds himself inhabiting a large athletic body (with a face like a gorilla) whose only aim in his new life is to punch the nose of every adult he knows.
Something to do with the transmigration of souls.
@Kerry Potenza: You and I are among the very few middle-aged folks to still have our wisdom teeth. My dentist told me I’ll probably take mine to the grave. I was very fortunate to end up with perfectly straight teeth without the benefit of orthodontia. My wife and oldest son both had to go through it. Younger son (14) seems to have inherited my tooth-genes.
Count your blessings–listening to some of these horror stories (and having accompanied Wife when she had hers removed) makes me cringe!
I had my wisdom teeth out in high school. When I came to after the procedure, I did my best impersonation of Bill Cosby’s routine about dental anesthetics.
“I got the best stuff. (picks up banjo) Pla-CEE-BOs!”
I’ve heard real horror stories about people getting hooked on those.
Best wishes for a successful extraction. Hopefully the extraction won’t go too deeply into your wallet.
Your post reminds me of another blogger, one who has had a tough time finding work the last few years. With some steady work the past month or two, some overdue dental work was completed. I’m guessing there are quite a few poor people who go around with mouth pain because they cannot afford a dentist. With the current messy health care situation, communities need to step up and help those who are unable to afford basic dental work. Could even inspire more smiles.
Oh, fabjus day! I saw X7 about 10+ years ago on one of the movie channels and froze when I heard “that voice”, Frees, in an actual face role. I must have kept a subliminal message about it as I was going to write to see if you have ever seen THIS movie. As I recall the ending was just that the infected airplane landed and everyone disembarked in an orderly fashion to the waiting transit authority bus, (meh).
Great sympathy. Had one taken out last year — it hurt, but more in the wallet. I felt a bit sad, since up until then I had all my original (non-diciduous) parts, but then, I have a pal who lost a leg to diabetes, so who am I to kvetch?
My wisdom teeth came in straight althought they undid some of my discount orthodontia. Never had a problem with them till last September, when a chronic bit of sensitivity in a back tooth escalated to constant low- to mid-level pain. I went to the Tooth Doc, who said that the upper left wisdom tooth was cracked and needed to go. “I have time to do it right now,” he said, and I said “You may proceed.” Having been in there for the better part of 40 years, it did not yield itself up willingly, but afterward there was little bleeding, and NO PAIN, even while healing. Got an Rx for a month’s worth of hydrocodone and used one, and that when I got home from the procedure. I wish you a similiar experience.
Many years ago I went to a comedy hypnotist stage show. He called up volunteers from the audience to do the standard silliness for the amusement of the audience (I was not one). Before he brought them out of hypnosis, he said, “Here is a gift to you for your cooperation today. From this moment on, you will not be afraid to go to the dentist.” I wonder if that suggestion really took. But I thought it was a very nice thought.
Where’s William Windom when we need him?
I had one wisdom tooth removed after it cracked (over pancakes at the Carnation restaurant on Disneyland’s Main Street; go figure). The doc put me under for the procedure. Best nap I’ve had in my entire adult life. I actually felt a twinge of disappointment when I realized I was coming to. Not that I didn’t want to be among the conscious, but because Etherville was soooo nice.
Best of luck to you for a quick recovery.
Have you tried clove oil for the pain? I used it when I cracked a wisdom tooth and it helped until I could get to the dentist. If you can get past the taste that is.
55 y.o. here, with all my wisdom teeth but one. They came in fine, pushed my other teeth around a bit, but didn’t mess up the orthodontics I never had.
It got a cavity where it was right up against another wisdom tooth, so my dentist said basicially, “I can’t reach this to fill it, so let’s just pull it.” We scheduled another appointment, he shot me up with Novocain (or its cousin), and with a bit of wiggling, out it came, pain-free. Ten minutes, beginning to end.
Hope yours goes as well!
I developed an impacted wisdom tooth years ago while visiting friends in D.C. for the weekend, but found a dentist whose office was open on a Saturday. (We went through the phone book — luckily his name began with A.) After he took an Xray, he was so excited about the picture — it showed my tooth had grown in sideways or something — that I was positive I was going to be the centerfold in the next Dentists’ Monthly. Com’on Doc, gimme the drugs already — at least enough to hold me til I see my own dentist on Monday.
I also want to recommend endoscopies. Same knock-out drops as a colonoscopy, but no prep!
Ben, aka ‘Marathon Man’– “Is it safe!?!”- Reminded me of one of Olivier’s more frightening roles…
hpoulter: Joe Besser-
Worst. Stooge. Ever.
When you came back around did you tell Carly that you kissed Freddie?
@browniejr: you are aware, right, that film critics would call that Biggest. Oxymoron. Ever.
WOOwoowoo BONK
@BrownieJr –
What’s wrong with a middle-aged man in a little Lord fauntleroy suit lisping “I’ll harm you!” ?
Nothing creepy about that.
Curly Joe Derita is a contender for worst Stooge.
Tragically, as the father of 6 and 9 year old daughters, I complete got that.
I might be remiss in noting that yesterday was International Women’s Day, but it is always Women’s day where I reside at the Casa de Estrogen #fatherofdaughters
swschrad, hpoulter:
Smartest stooge: Moe Howard… (boy, my comments today are waaaay up there on the IQ scale)
Curley Joe Derita was just a retread at a rather tired (and old) franchise by the time he arrived.
If you want something more powerful than aspirin, try Cobroxin. It’s over the counter and the active ingredient is, believe it or not, cobra venom. It’s supposed to be as effective as morphine.
[...] tortures are physical,” noted Ogden Nash, “and some are mental.” The one that’s both, though, is dental: [I]t’s not like I’m the first person to play hurt; everyone has, or will have, periods [...]
“And it’s still lite ‘n’ breezy!” What, pray tell, is still lite ‘n breezy? Or is it prey tell? Whatever. Confused me.
If aspirin helps you, that’s great. I take some everyday, just on general principles. I suspect it may do some good, but I can’t prove it.