Oh, the Pain!

I suspect I looked a great deal like Dr. Zachary Smith over this last weekend. A long since crowned tooth that purportedly had a root canal some 15, 20, or 30 years ago--I don't know when--suddenly sprang into full throb torture. It started on Friday or Saturday last, but with it being the weekend, and my having a yard sale long planned with a friend that could not be put off, the best I could do to address its early and not completely unbearable stage was to chew aspirin. I'd get a couple of hours before I needed more. And I knew I had to be careful on that score not to kill my stomach in the process of addressing the pain in my tooth.

By Monday morning, I realized that though I am a follower of a faith for which a Theology of  Suffering is a major tenet, I was failing the course. I had wended my way into "big wimp" territory. There were beginning to be tears. I held off on the gnashing of teeth as that would only cause more pain!

I called my newest dentist who is in the locale of my two former dentists and begged for an appointment which could not be managed till 3 p.m. I knew it was unlikely any actual work could be done on the tooth, but I was counting on something to address the pain and what I was sure was a whopper of an infection. You see, I am ashamed to say, that I have had a lot of dental work in my life.  I have had several implants after one or two of the roots on crowned teeth broke irreparably. Though I regularly brush, I have not been a perfect flosser. In fact, truth be told, I probably haven't been an imperfect one. But anyway, I have had enough work to know when there is an infection.

X ray. Yep. Infection. Antibiotic. And a painkiller, something a little dicey, Hydrocodone with acetaminophen. And an appointment on Wednesday. I had high hopes for the Hydrocodone as I began the antibiotic. It is supposedly the strongest type of painkiller. And alas, it only took the edge off for about a half hour in any given dose. Smart enough I that I didn't double down. And so Tuesday was a marathon to getting to Wednesday.

And so it began at 9 a.m. Wednesday. The sawing off (that's what it sounded like; not sure I'll get that one back if the re-treatment works; that's what they call it when they try to do a second root canal on one that was not sufficient) of the crown. This was after, of course, an abundance of pricks by a very sharp needle to deliver pain killing salvation to me aching mouth. And then the digging into the old cavern of my previously rooted canals. I had the thought that the inside of my tooth was not unlike the tombs of the ancient Egyptians--never meant to have anyone clawing about once they had been sealed.  But then, there they were, the instruments of excavation. At first, there was no pain, just the sounds and vibrations of the equipment motors.

And then I was feeling something. It wasn't the throbbing per se. It was a building ache. From somewhere. It was hard to intercept the drilling dentist with the rubber damn on my face. But I mumbled, "I'm feeling something." It was some of the infection. And as she digged deeper, there was an exquisite sharp pain. "There shouldn't be any pain!" I thought. I was numbed to the nth degree.
But there it was. And I sang a scream. And then there was relief as something building up had been released. It happened several times. "Are you in a choir?" asked one of the assistants. I was. I had forced my scream into a sing song to avoid any expletives. Interesting that I even thought to do that.

"Everything's ok back here!" shouted the various folks attending me to the patients in other rooms. I laughed loudly. Now, I hoped, they would believe it, my fellow sufferers in chairs outside of my sight.

But there would be no re-treatment this day said my dentist. Too much infection. We have to have the rest of it drain, and I was prescribed a second antibiotic to be taken with the first, as they apparently have different targets. And another painkiller, hopefully more effective than the first, which I have already retired. Because of the digging about in my tooth, some of the infection had kind of bunched up into a swelling on my cheek/jaw. The pain was not gone, but it was greatly abated. That was enough for me given the intensity of the prior several days.  An appointment again, next week.

Tonight. The swelling is less, though not gone. I have been assured that by the end of 72 hours it will be more or less gone. There is something exhilarating about the absence of pain. I look forward to it.

Oh, the pain. I am glad it is nearly gone!