Dental Drama.

Last Saturday, Jenny, Bobby, Andy and I went out to dinner together. Without our kids. It was lovely and left us all wondering why we don’t do that more often. Like every Saturday. But anyway, the only downside to our festivities is that I was in terrible pain. You see, I had had a toothache for a day or so, but it chose our special dinner as the time to get worse. Much worse. I thought I had something stuck in my gum, which Jenny diagnosed as a tooth spicule. I googled it as a second opinion and determined she was right. Then I ordered a steak, which probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done but it was sooooo good. Anyway, we had a fabulous time.

Sunday morning I woke up and my tooth felt better, so being the genius I am, I decide to have raisin bran for breakfast.

Oh. Em. Gee, people. I was dying. I was in so much pain, and it stretched from the center of my chin all the way to the back of my head. I kept thinking of the nurse I had when I was in labor with Sam. She asked me to rate my pain on a scale from 1-10, and I never went above four. When I was giving birth. Sunday? I was at a solid eight.

Like I said, I thought something was stuck in my gum and I needed it to come out, so I googled emergency dentist and ended up at a place that shall not be named – we’ll call it ShadyDent. So, Andy drove me over to ShadyDent and dropped me off (and then took Sam to get a haircut – woo hoo!). I was one of three people in the waiting room, so didn’t think it would be too bad. WRONG! I had to wait for more than two hours just to be seen.

Did I mention I was in pain?

I was not amused. But I finally did get taken back to an exam room, which is when, despite my horrendous pain, I began berating myself for not just sucking it up and waiting for my regular dentist to open the next day. This place was sketchy. I texted Jenny and Rachel saying I was fairly sure I was going to leave there with lice and/or hepatitis. (Update: to my knowledge, I have neither. But you never know.) Anyway, the dentist came in and started banging around on my teeth (I am not even kidding – banging is the appropriate term) and I about came out of my chair. Then he took a couple xrays and said “The root of your tooth died and now it’s infected. The infection is trying to come out of your body through your gums, which is why you feel a sore spot. You need a root canal – want me to do it now?” and I was like “Um, no thanks, Dr. ShadyDent.” So he gave me some antibiotics and Vicodin and sent me on my way, warning me that if I didn’t get it taken care of in the next few days, I’d land myself in the emergency room.

So, again, because I am SUCH A GENIUS, I determined we needed to stick with the plan for the day and go to King’s Island. Because really, where’s a better place to go? I was definitely at my shadiness quota by that time that day was over.

It was a good excuse to eat ice cream all day, though. It is a sad state of affairs when eating ice cream is painful, but that’s where I was. Pass the Vicodin!

The next day was spent making calls to my regular dentist, and, getting nowhere, googling myself a new one. Fortunately, I came across the most amazing dental office ever in the history of the world. Or maybe it just seemed that way in comparison to ShadyDent. Either way, I finally felt as though I was in good hands.

Good hands, however, that didn’t want to do a root canal unless it was absolutely necessary. Which it might be. But it might not. We’re not sure – so we’re waiting. Waiting for two more weeks, unless my pain level increases again and I can’t take it anymore – at which point I’m going to go all Cast Away and find myself an ice skate.

But here’s the latest development. Remember that spot on my gum? Now there’s something sharp poking out of it. And it hurts like crap when I touch it. Which I can’t stop doing.

You know what it probably is? A BONE SPICULE. Which means Dr. Jenny and Dr. Google were right all along. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how to extract it.

If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to google “bone spicule and pocket knife.” Don’t worry – I have Vicodin.