Tooth-Hurty

Back in May, I had an appointment to have a tooth pulled.  The tooth has been broken for years but recently has presented some problems with minor pain due to (I think) infection.  The dentist that I went to in that dental practice was wary of doing the job because the tooth had roots going every-which-way, based on the x-ray.  She referred me to another dentist in the practice.  I made the appointment, but then had to reschedule it because my dear friend Patrick died.  His funeral was to take place on the same day as the appointment.

Well, Monday was THE rescheduled day.  The appointment was for 4:00 PM (not 2:30 as the title of this post suggests.  Tooth-hurty...get it??).  I dreaded it.  Did everything I could think of to find a way to cancel it.  I mean, the tooth wasn't causing problems right then, but I knew I was living on borrowed time.  Little pockets of infection would actually show up on the outer section of my gums. I popped them and the pain would go away.  (I know...too much information!)  When I made the original appointment, I was trying to save myself problems for my Seattle trip, but I had to reschedule for after my return.  While in Seattle, I did have to take Tylenol once for throbbing.  That took care of it for the entire rest of the trip.

So, Monday, I girded my loins and prepared myself for the inevitable.  The tooth had been broken for several years.  Because of the situation with the roots, I was afraid that it would come out in pieces and require more digging than I wanted.  There were a few minutes of consternation when this dentist's office couldn't find the other dentist's office's copy of my records and x-ray.  When that was resolved, the original dentist came in to see me.  And off we went.  I was given the usual numbing shots.  (I HATE the ones in the roof of the mouth!!)  Then there is the wait for the numbing to take place and the wait for the operating dentist to find time to do the job.  It was taking forever!

Finally, he came in and started his banter.  He's a hoot.  He started talking about how he was going to wiggle the tooth to make room in the socket and that some teeth come out in pieces, then said "But this one isn't!"  It was out, completely, in ten seconds or less.  I mumbled, "Already?"  He said, "Who do you think you're dealing with here?  Amateurs??"  He left me to the care of his hygienist.  I wanted to see the tooth, and so did the original dentist who was in the office.  The tooth had three crooked roots--not four as usual molars do.  I was delighted that it had come out in one piece and took no time at all to remove.

I was sent home immediately with a prescription for Norco and instructions for post-op care:  no sucking on straws or cigarettes, icing 20 minutes on and 20 minutes off, soft foods, etc.  But here is the bottom line:  In my lifetime, I have had five teeth pulled.  Two were baby teeth that had no replacements.  One was an impacted wisdom tooth that was causing problems.  That one, according to the dentist, was a difficult extraction, complete with stitches.  In fact, he called the next day to see how I was doing.  How was I doing?  Great!  In all five extractions, I never have experienced any post-op pain.  This latest one bled a little longer than I liked but didn't hurt, and there is, once again, no swelling.  I didn't even use ice!  Either I am blessed with a high pain tolerance or good dentists.  I figure if I were going to get hit by the odds, it would have happened by now!

My tooth history isn't all that great.  There were no permanent teeth to replace two molars and one incisor.  One wisdom tooth emerged, straight.  Two were impacted.  One doesn't exist.  I grind my teeth at night and clench my jaw.  It's no wonder that my teeth break!  I don't take proper care of my toofers but am happy that most of them are still "mine".  Not sure how much longer that will last!