Holy Molar

I had a bad back molar. Thanks to persistent vomiting for 28 weeks during my pregnancy with Lilo, the enamel weakened and I got a cavity. Thanks to being broke with no dental insurance and no way to pay the co-pay on dental insurance this cavity ran amok for a couple of years. Once insured, I discovered that it wasn’t a drill-n-fill issue anymore. Nope. I needed a crown.

I have always though I needed a crown, to be honest. Just not one on a tooth.

Over the last five years I have broken the crown at least twice. Once when Stitch got hurt; my jaw clenched so hard that the crown cracked like cheap plaster when I heard her head go “thwack” against the tailgate. The second time, my persisting grinding of my teeth while sleeping was too much for the little fella and it broke a couple of months ago.

When my demist saw it he said there was only a bit of it broken off the edge and it was still protecting the tooth. We could wait a while for a new crown. That’s great, but I knew that crowns eventually became root canals, post and core, and other heinous things. Thus, I informed my dentist that the molar was going to live with Jesus.

After consultation, it was decided that there was no point in extracting the tooth until it needed to be extracted. I was to contact the dentist when it started giving me trouble and he would give me a referral to a good local oral surgeon.

Surgeon was my least favorite kind of oral, but alright.

What neither of us realized was that my tooth wouldn’t give me any indicator pangs – that it would shoot straight for searing, throbbing agony. Or that it would chose to do so on the weekend.

Okay, so I knew I had to wait until Monday to have the tooth out. I also knew that the “discomfort” of the tooth was going through the over the counter pain meds like a semi through toilet paper. I therefore took myself to the interwebs to see what I could see in terms of MAKE THIS THING QUIT HURTING ME.

The resounding answer was: clove oil. Turns out clove oil (called eugenol) is frequently used in professional dental treatments.  My Sweet Babou went to the local co-opt store to get clove oil and then brought it unto me, and lo my pain did back down from torment to ache. Ache is doable. I can live with ache if needs be.

Early yesterday morning I went under the knife. The oral surgeon was a god among men and managed to find a vein for my IV after only two tries … which is excellent because I was dehydrated and already have wiggly collapsing veins. Judging from the minimal bruising and swelling going on in my face, I can deduce he was also a damn fine surgeon and got that tooth outta there without undue fuss.

I am, understandably, a little sore but in good spirits.  It’s not bad enough to need hydrocodone, for which I am grateful. I had that yesterday and was high as a kite, which I believe I mentioned several times on Facebook. Never take hydrocodone and then decide to communicate online is my new motto.

Now, I am off to eat my yogurt or soup (whee) and drink more room temperature tea (whee).

Envy me, y’all.

Recent Posts by Betty Fokker

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