Or, rather, my mouth. Last week, I started noticing a dull pain in my jaw, which was annoying, but that's why God made Advil, right? However, by mid-hurricane, the pain was becoming intense, radiating up and over my head in full on migraine fashion, which of course the Advil was no longer touching, and the back of my mouth was totally inflamed. (Ow.) By Sunday, I was crying uncle. (Or just crying. Whatever.) I am a total dentist-phobe, so not having a dentist of my own, I called Mark's. I was expecting an answering service, but the after hours number was his cell; will miracles never cease? Luckily, because my husband is both fastidious about his dental care AND delightfully charming, the dentist knows him well and was happy to help me out over the phone. He called in prescriptions for antibiotics and pain meds (HALLELUJAH) to tide me over until he could see me. I have been pleasantly snowed ever since. HAAA -- no, I wish. They were only ibuprofen 800s; they helped with the pain, but I still mostly have been clutching my face and moaning for the better part of a week. Good times.
Well, yesterday was my appointment, and as I feared, I have a bit of a wisdom tooth situation going on. (I am 32 and TEETHING. Seriously, I think I would have preferred the volcano.) There is one that is breaking through, albeit unsuccessfully, and that is what's causing all the trouble. There is another above it that already came in but is poorly placed. Those both have to go. There is nothing visible on the other side, but x-rays will show whether there is anything to remove there as well. I have orders to see an oral surgeon, as well as an appointment to return for a cleaning and a couple of fillings. This is awesome. AAAAAWESOME. I mean, I have already paid $65 in copays, and that was just for him to look in my mouth and take an x-ray. I can't imagine surgery is going to be exactly inexpensive.
I ... yeah. Just send wine, ok?
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