Sunday, January 22, 2012

GIVING ORAL

Oh man... have I ever had a week of suffering. As in: pain. As in: dental pain. Geez... I can't even believe it. Right this minute is the FIRST time since noon last Tuesday that I'm actually feeling spiffy again. Well, almost spiffy. But SO much better than before.

Turns out I went to the dentist on Tuesday to have a filling in one tooth and a temporary crown put on the one next to it. Way towards the back of my lower teeth, too. Which means: my mouth was opened WIDE for over an hour, I'll bet. Trust me... when my mouth is going to be opened for an hour or so, it better be for... well... uh. Never mind. Let's not go there. Suffice it to say that on Tuesday it was definitely NOT for fun and frolic.

Instead it was for subsequent pain. Oral pain, to be exact. Of course at that point, the pain didn't in any way keep me from my scheduled luncheon date, but no matter. The five shots of Novocaine were still ensuring my ability to eat just fine. BUT.... five hours later??? OMG... I wanted to shoot myself. I was already thinking: SHIT. I'M DEALING WITH AN ORAL CANCEROUS TUMOR, NOW?? In which case DEFINITELY shoot me now.

However, come to find out this pain was coming from EEEKS. A huge aphthous ulcer... better knows as a canker sore. Right on the side of my tongue, directly across from the area where the dental work was done. Talk about a one two punch. IT HURT. AND, IT HURT ALOT. By this time dinner wasn't even an option. I could hardly chew and when I did, I had to do so on the left side of my mouth only. Oh man. This was crazy.

Okay. So I lived with the pain for a day. Then, on Thursday I ran my ass back over to the dentist's office without even calling first. I basically said... OW! THIS IS KILLING ME. WTF IS GOING ON?? Btw, don't YOU bother going. The dentist will simply give you a numbing cream of sorts, which is fine. IF YOU WANT THE PAIN NUMBED FOR NO LONGER THAN FIVE MINUTES, that is. What kind of pain killer is THAT??

Well, certainly not the kind that the doctor at the Urgent Care gave me. He got right down to business, thank God. Turns out that by Friday I could see I was this close to heading to the ER since naturally, my dentist is apparently into three day weekends. Thus, his office is closed on Fridays. Which naturally brought me to what I consider one of the finest establishments in the city... URGENT CARE.

I love this place. It's an offshoot of the hospital... a little walk in clinic type place that helps people when lets say... their real doctor is into three day weekends, too. BOOM. You get instant medical care. Anyway, the doctor there took a look at my mouth and in no time at all, I had a script for not only an antibiotic but also for a pain killer. A REAL pain killer, I might add. Think: Vicodin.

Think it, btw, but don't necessarily take it. Unless, like me, you restructure the milligram intake. For no sooner did I get my prescriptions filled and the first dosage popped into my mouth then WHAMMO. My insides are speeding all around like a college kid trying to cram for his last final before graduation. I was like WIRED from this crazy ass drug. For several hours, too!

Until that is, I called Wilma. Three times, actually. She is my go to person for medical emergencies and/or diagnoses, given that in her past life she was an incredible sort of medical Switchboard operator genius. Something like that, anyway. You have a medical question? Boom. Call Switchboard. If Wilma answered, you had your directions and/or solutions right off the bat. Sure enough... bless her heart... Wilma had a remedy for me. TAKE ATIVAN and stop the speed. Take Ativan?? Wow. Really?? WITH PLEASURE. Thanks! I love that med. But more importantly, IT WORKED. Granted I had to take two to make the wired feeling go away, but man, did I ever sleep like a baby last night... thanks to my most fabulous darling of a friend.

So, here it is Saturday afternoon. I am SO much better, I can't even tell you. Met lots of friends for breakfast, ran a couple of errands, did some laundry and then settled down to watch a new DVD as I folded the clothes. Which pissed me off, since come to find out, my DVD player doesn't want to put out sound anymore. Don't ask.

So while indeed, I'm way better in the mouth department, I'm now pissed in the electronic department. Talk about Roseanne Roseanna Danna. If it's not one thing... it's another.