Sowwy fo not whiting. Hab had bad toofache, had to hab it pulled. Oww.
((Pulling myself together enough to speak properly for a moment.}}
I am too sore and drugged up to relate the experience so I am posting a story I wrote a back in October 2002, the last time I had a tooth pulled, as this experience was nearly identical. Enjoy.
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The tooth pain has been increasing for several days. Unfortunately, we only have one car right now, and I had already told Daughter that I would drive Husband in to work, so I would have the car to pick her up after school. I was to take her to a friend's Halloween costume party that evening.
As soon as the office opened, I called the dentist to see if I could get an emergency appointment. They said they could work me in, but 11:30 was the only time. Husband usually leaves between 1 and 1:30 to drive to work, so I knew that would be cutting it close, but I didn't care - my jaw was swollen up like a peach.
Examination, x-rays, explanation of abscess and required removal, then they started shooting in the novocaine.
Shoot....wait...poke with sharp dental tool while asking, "Can you feel this?" I mutter "yeth." Shoot it again...repeat. Repeat FIVE times! Dentist says that due to the infection the novocaine is less effective, because it becomes diluted in the fluid (I won't say "pus" that's just so gross LOL).
At last all pokey tool jabs result in no feeling, and he begins.
Gets out a pair of pliers that could pull the Titanic out of the iceberg. Yanks firmly with one hand. Nothing happens. Yanks firmly with two hands. I think eventually he had his foot on the chair and a pulley hooked up to a truck outside, and with a mighty yank, pulled it out. Except for the root.
Ah yes, I have deep roots, apparently attached to my pelvis. It broke off. Sounded like a large tree snapping in a hurricane. I heard an audible moan from the dentist and assistant. I had visions of Husband growing a long white beard waiting in the parking lot, and Daughter graduating.....college. I knew we were gonna be here a while. It required (close your eyes if you are squeamish) something more akin to oral surgery than a simple extraction, as now the dentist had to dig and slice his way down to the broken off nub, then cut himself a wide enough swath to grab it for removal. This, of course, required even more novocaine.
The taste of blood filled my head, and the assistant was franticly trying to use the little sucker-straw fast enough to keep up. At last, the nub was removed; he applied enough gauze to cover the entire state (a la Cristo, the fabric-draping artist), and sent me on my merry way.
It was nearly 2PM. We drove to his office, and about halfway there, the novocaine began to spread throughout my face. I was the bo-tox poster child, no wrinkles at all. Unfortunately, I couldn't blink my left eye. It was open, and I could see, except for the watering, but I could NOT blink. It was the damndest thing.
What a sight I was! Five pounds of gauze, now quite red and oozing, stuffed in my mouth, but also partially hanging out the left side, since I'd lost all control and couldn't close my lips, unblinking left eye, tongue hanging out to the right, displaced by the massive gauze pack. By the time we reached Husband's office, he was a little late, but one look at me and I could tell he was torn between empathy and uncontrollable laughter, so he (wisely) said nothing, and left me to drive the 55 miles back to Daughter's school.
Drove at warp speed. Between the drugs, the watery eye, the pain and the rate of motion, looking out the windshield was akin to the scene in Star Wars where all the stars turn into little streaks of light.
Picked Daughter up, who shuddered at the sight of me. Drove her to the store to get a new pair of tights, since her pre-party try-on of the costume had ripped the original pair we purchased, and to fill the prescriptions from the dentist. Even the hardened eyes of the pharmacy clerks widened at the sight of us. . . Daughter, having changed into her costume (sans tights) and me - a mess. The elderly crowd, waiting for their flu shots, parted like the Red Sea at the sight of the swollen, oozing, unblinking creature (accompanied by a butterfly fairy wearing three-foot sequined wings), before them. (I suspect some of them reconsidered what medications THEY were on LOL)
Unable to speak, I had to hold out my driver's license and the dentist's card and motion to them what my intent was. Fortunately they didn't think it was a hold-up, and rapidly filled my prescription.
I started the antibiotics, but held off taking any Vicaden since it warns against driving, and by the time I had to go pick up Husband, all of the wondrous novocaine was worn off. I could blink again, but it was painful to do so. I begged him to get us home to my awaiting drug stupor, mostly using sign language and grunts.
At last we arrived, and I started taking the pain medication, which I have taken regularly ever since. God bless the inventor of Vicaden.