I Suck

I fully intended to participate in National Blog Posting Month. But just as with NaNoWriMo, I can't get my fecal material gathered in one place.

But there are reasons (excuses) for that!

For one, I have been in agony the past week and a half.

In August, my periodontist (whose office is 100 miles away, but worth the drive) told me "go get these two cavities filled." Yay, easy peasey, right? You'd think. You would also be wrong. Every damned dentist I see wants to pluck all the teeth in my head and replace them with shiny new dentures! Joy! Fun! So my regular dentist, whom I avoid because I already get my teeth cleaned four times a year, refused to fill the teeth. Instead, he wanted to send me to ANOTHER periodonist. Well, any periodontist that talks about teeth pulling is looking at my insurance coverage, and not at my mouth. I've kept these teeth in almost 5 years longer than they wanted them in, and they show no signs of falling out or anything. Loose, yes. In danger of spontaneously separating from my gums? Not even close.

So I made an appointment with a dentist MY periodontist works with. That dentist (also 100 miles away) believes in keeping teeth in the head as well. The appointment is for tomorrow, and not a minute too soon. In fact, a couple weeks too late.

The cavity that should have been filled back in September, but on which my dentist refused to work, has now worsened to (I think) an exposed nerve; either that or an infection. The entire left side of my face has been in pain over a week. I must have slept 10 hours in the past five days, and eaten maybe six meals. I've alternated Tylenol and Advil until I have to write down what I took when, because it would be so easy to take more. And those have merely taken the edge off. I've rinsed repeatedly with salt water and peroxide, and today for the first time I can actually have my upper and lower sets of teeth meet without pain.

It wasn't all bad, though. It's kept me from scarfing the Halloween candy (a record-breaking haul, let me tell you) and it allowed me to catch up with about 17 hours of CSI reruns. But let me tell you, consciousness at four-thirty a.m. is NOT a party under the best of circumstances. Come to think of it, it might have been better had someone brought over the whisky.

Where were you all when I needed you?