My weekend of wisdom-tooth-pain culminated in Wednesday's appointment (of DOOM), where there was much gnashing and cutting and grinding--oy vey!
I got to see an x-ray of what was going on with my tooth. It looked something like:
Note the little bit of wisdom tooth peeking out the gum, looking like it would come in. It's looked like that for years--a little bit more, and a little bit more, and...
Note also the little bit of bone keeping it from actually raising up. Doh!
So Mr. Dentist went in, slicey slicey with the gum tissue so he could go grindey grindey with the bone tissue, so he could go wiggle-wiggle-snap and get that freaking cess-pit of a tooth out of there!
Repeat for the other side (ugh. ow. ouch!)
I got two _huge_ shots of lidocaine (one per side), and then something else that was more local than merely "topical"--and that really did the trick. Though by the time he started slicing open on the left side, I could feel things again, so he gave that side another shot of the lidocaine, which worked well enough. Then he started stitching, and let me tell you that is an _odd_ sensation. With scary-looking implements. I could feel the thread sliding through my flesh, but I kept thinking, "Oh, this will be over soon, no need for another shot of lidocaine". Two things wrong with that--it _wasn't_ over soon (enough), and by the time he was sewing up the other side (which didn't feel it), my right side was _killing me_. "But this will be over soon, no need..."
There was a pre-dent there that was really excited about the whole procedure, so Mr. Dentist would stop and explain things to her--and I'd crane my neck to see and he'd move so I could see better and explain to both of us. Cool stuff. Afterwards, she was all giggly, asking various questions, and poking and prodding at the two teeth that were on the dentist tray (after asking me if I minded). Then we just sort of talked, while I was supposed to be putting pressure on these OW OW OW OW OW gauze pads, to get the bleeding to stop.
Getting home was awkward and painful (we stopped to get prescribed antiobiotics--man, that took forever!) and I was somewhat afraid to go to sleep. Tried to change my gauze (BAD idea, BAD BAD BAD), and all of a sudden my gums were pouring forth blood, and I couldn't get them to stop. Amy called the dentist for me, and he re-recommended tea bags, which Amy prepared for me and I applied... OW OW OW OW OW. Then I took some pain medication that Amy ground up for me in a little cup of water, because I didn't want to open my jaw... and all of that helped. I think part of it was that I just couldn't place the gauze in the right place and apply the right amount of pressure because it hurt so friggin much. So of course it wouldn't stop bleeding. Anyway, it eventually stopped. Took another pain pill which didn't seem to do anything, and lay in bed. In and out of consciousness. Eventually remembered to remove my phone. And then my camera. And then my wallet. Woke up when Amy did, but really couldn't drag myself to face the day. Eventually, she convinced me out of bed to email work, because I was trying to say too many complicated things for her to pass on.
Emailed work. Popped another pain pill. And antiobiotics. And went to bed.
Woke up at 5pm. I've eaten two small things of yogurt since yesterday's lunch. Took another antiobiotic, removed the gauze pads which were only mostly soaked in blood (you should see the bag o' bloody tissue I've got from when I was really having problems; oy!)
Now I'm supposed to be working on a proposal that was due, er, early today if not late last night.
No real thoughts involved beyond OW OW OW OW OW.
And now, here's me as a chipmunk: