The plan was to be stoic, to see if all that pain was just as a result of trauma to my mouth. This morning, I decided, we’d take the first fifteen minutes as an indicator of what happened next: waking without painkillers, my jaw ached, in the exact same way it has since all this started. Drinking tea made it ache more, as did eating. Then, a swig of tepid water set every nerve in my mouth jangling.
Sitting in the Dentist’s waiting room, a man opposite me asked if I was alright. Admitting that the place made me nervous, it did. That’s not true now. I’ll have no issues going into that place again in the future. The dentist was amazed I’d managed eight days, and agreed that extraction was the answer… except, my tooth was not immediately keen to be removed. Twitter told that story this morning.
I realise now it MIGHT have been a bungalow, but the memory of such things is hazy. Mr Power however remains an irish powerhouse. The tooth cracked on the way out, you can see the marks where the surgical pliers used were holding on. The relief on extraction, I will admit, was considerable. It’s sitting opposite me now, like some bizzare octopod. That filling goes 6mm in, and that’s why it would never have stopped hurting.
However, the biggest takeaway from all of that is something important took place today. Nobody shouted at me for getting upset, it was okay to cry and the space given to react was, it has to be said, joyous. If I didn’t know better I’d say I was in shock. The sensations are certainly comparable to when its happened in the past. Being able not only to deal with the trauma but realise that as that was tooth was pulled I was back where my original issues with dentistry took place is…
Yeah. Needs time to process, and as I can’t exercise until tomorrow because the wound site is HUGE? Lots of time for that. Just no tea. That’s a killer. Nothing hot until tomorrow.
All the cold water I can drink though is good enough.