Ah, the dentist.
The drills, the metal poky thingies, the little hooks, the gauze, the x-rays, the blood, the questions he asks that I can't answer because his hands are in my mouth...
Last month or the month before, while he was drilling to insert a filling, my tooth exploded.
Yep. Exploded. Into little bitty bits.
"First time in 24 years of practice," he declared.
Now there's a not-so-lovely gap that he thought should be bridged rather than filled by building up the tooth. Yesterday, he decided, "There looks like enough tooth left below the gum for us to work with," and so he re-drilled what had already begun to heal over, and completed a root canal. (I will not describe the gorier details.)
At 3 a.m. Tuesday, the temporary filling fell out.
Well, it was temporary, after all.
Immediate throbbing pain all the way down, and along my jawline to the ear. Very little sleep.
This morning, in the process of the dentist's examination of the cavernous hole, I just about slithered off the chair, I was in so much pain.
In addition to all this joyousness, there was another dental procedure done yesterday before the excavation of my jaw: the removal of a wisdom tooth that didn't belong. I seem to have an extra set of teeth that arrive on occasion when they are not wanted. This wisdom tooth grew between two others, and was sideways. The tooth poked out instead of down. It was infected, which is a whole other gory tale I will not describe.
So, I have eaten a little bit of mashed potatoes or yogurt, and have drunk only room-temperature liquids (doctor's orders), but even those things are painful to consume. I went work this morning then came home, due to little sleep, a lot of pain, some medication, low blood sugar, and some queasiness from the drainage of all the infection goop. Other people are having to fill in for me, and I have thanked them for stepping into the gap (no pun intended).
Who knew a little filling could leave a gaping hole?