Will Someone Please Just Get This Goddamn Tooth Out of My Head??
That is the question I asked several times over the last week. What started as mild tooth pain — for which I saw a dentist who informed me that I needed a root canal and prescribed me antibiotics to treat a ‘minor’ infection — turned into the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. Granted, I have never had children, nor a limb removed, but I’m convinced that even for folks who have had one or both of those experiences, tooth issues are a special kind of pain. Because aside from being painful, it’s annoying. And I don’t mean this in the way that all pain is annoying — duh, it’s pain, it’s not a freakin’ carnival. What I mean is that it is annoying in addition to being painful. Like there’s someone sticking a hot poker in your face while at the same time doing the “I’m not touching you” game.
Anyway, I started taking my antibiotics on Friday and by Saturday night I was in so much pain I was calling people in hysterical tears trying to find pain killers — the good kind — and had my friends looking like pill-popping crazy people as they proceeded to ask everyone they knew, or even kind of knew, if they had Vicodin, Percoset, Norco, or what-the-hell-ever was gonna make me stop howling like a banshee. Finally someone, who shall remain nameless as we all know it is unsafe and illegal to share prescription medication*, came through. Thank freakin’ God. It was not pretty nor was it pleasant. For anyone involved.
So after I was good and medicated and able to drink a little chicken broth I was finally able to fall asleep. When I woke up the next morning I diligently took my Amoxicillin and my Ibuprofen, got up to go pee and was delighted to see that my face had swollen up as if someone had decided to use me as a heavy bag sometime during the night. Needless to say my elation at being relatively pain-free quickly turned to panic over whether or not my face was about to blow up like a Macy’s Parade balloon, which naturally led to thoughts of the infection getting into my brain and turning me into a broccoli stem for the rest of my life. Naturally I went straight to urgent care.
No I didn’t.
I had a haircut scheduled, one that I had been putting off for weeks that was doubling as book club meeting so I wasn’t about to miss it. Besides, I felt fine, aside from the panic and the swelling, so what was the big deal? Especially because this was taking place at the home of our favorite stylist — she’s in the book club and I believe one of the ladies I called upon to look like a pill-popping crazy person to find me drugs. She’s also a really good friend I hadn’t seen in a while so I just didn’t see the point of giving in to a little obnoxious tooth pain. Even when, on the drive over, I could tell the swelling was getting worse and it was starting to be uncomfortable again. Whatever, I’ll grab my ice pack. I’m tough. It’ll be fine.
It was not fine.
I got through my haircut and managed to socialize a wee bit, chugging my Gatorade while everyone else was sipping champagne. But after about an hour the conversation started to get a little fuzzy since all I could think about was the infection taking over my face. I could keep my pulse from just under my left eye and, speaking of eyes, the swelling was creeping that way now as well. What. The. Hell.
Urgent Care is a lifesaver.
I should mention that over the course of this day I was texting my super-amazing hygienist back in Phoenix (Agave Dental) who I’ve been going to since I was a child and who was also rather concerned with the way this issue was progressing. She finally said if the swelling continued to spread I needed to get my ass to the ER pronto. That was enough to spur me so I said adios to my girls (after bursting into tears again, of course) and I got my ass to urgent care. Fortunately, the medical gods were smiling on me at that moment and it took me almost no time to get in. The nurse practitioner I saw was beside herself wondering why the hell anyone would prescribe Amoxicillin for dental pain (evidently it doesn’t cover the breadth of icky bugs we have inhabiting our mouths at any given moment and doesn’t work fast enough — ya think?) so she gave me something stronger and faster and my very own pain pill prescription and sent me on my way. After verifying that the infection was not about to eat my brain and turn me into a stalk of broccoli, of course.
It is now Wednesday (likely Thursday before I actually post this) and the pain is finally managed and the swelling nearly gone. I’ve graduated from looking like an abused Cabbage Patch Kid to more like someone with a very mild food allergy. I’m just thankful I live in the age of modern dentistry. Imagine if I’d had to go see this guy…
