The Agony of the Tooth

I wake early and know immediately something is wrong. My tooth is hurting. The one where the dentist had begun a root canal, but got interrupted by my cancer treatment. I have thought several times I need to get back to it, but have been waiting until I get the final go ahead from the doctor. No waiting for that now. If a tooth with no nerves hurts, something is dreadfully wrong.

I head, not to work, but to the dental center, sign in, and wait my turn. In my head, I try to justify my lack of proper care for my mouth, but it always sounds so lame. I am sure the dentist will give me what for. They were having a hard time doing the root canal anyway. Seems my roots are extremely tiny and she couldn't even get her smallest file in them. Besides, they are bent at the end of the root, making it even harder. And if that weren't enough, I have an extra root - three instead of two. Good grief!

They look. The tooth is very fragile. It is because of all the treatment I have undergone. She tells me I will likely continue to encounter problems with my teeth (like I haven't already experienced pieces of teeth falling out of my head). Yes, there is an infection. The decision is made to extract. First, they have to call my primary doctor and makes sure they can pull the tooth without unexpected side effects from my treatment and the status of my immune system. They get the nod.

Tip back. Novocaine sprays everywhere. Don't swallow. Gulp. We have to make sure its good and numb. Besides, you may end up needing oral surgery because of those bent roots. The dentist chisels intently at the offensive tooth. She calls for one tool, then another, then another. Finally she asks for the forceps. Pressure. Rocking. Wiggling. Pulling. It's out! No need for surgery, it came willingly and cleanly. They are mopping my face with wet gauze, packing the hole in my gumline.

I have a sheet of instructions. Pack with ice. Take Tylenol. No spitting (good thing I am not one of my sons!). No drinking through a straw. Don't brush your teeth for two days. Then rinse with warm salt water. Nothing hot to drink for 48 hours. Sigh. I wobble my way back to the car. For a fleeting moment, I consider going to work (it is now 1 pm), and then dismiss the idea.

I hate being undependable for my coworkers. I was supposed to be on reference desk all day. Now someone else will have to step up, not that I think the desk will be very demanding this early in the semester, but I hate not carrying my fair share of the load. When will the impact lessen so I can be the person I want to be?

Soon, I tell myself. Soon I will be able to commit to responsibilities and not have to renege due to some unexpected health issue. Give it time. Remember the last round. It was a couple of years before you were out of the woods. You will gain ground again. Be patient and thankful your colleagues are understanding. This too shall pass.