Extraction

Back on November 4th I was happily munching a piece of slightly overcooked flapjack.  It was almost crispy and very chewy but the sound I heard from within my mouth was more of a 'crack!'.  A quick investigation with my tongue generated a searing pain. Dentophobics don't read the rest of the paragraph.  A visit to the dentist was scheduled for an emergency 'patch up'.  This was the tooth that had (no so long ago) root canal treatment, so I was expecting it not to be painful.  That's about as wrong as you can be.  In the chair I was informed that the damage would be evaluated and the tooth may be saved.  Then the inevitable injection and some tooth stabbings to see if the injections have worked.  They never do.  When the sharpness of the pain was suppressed a little more investigation was carried out.  The tooth could not be save.  Extraction was the only option.  More injections, more tooth stabbings.  Wait ..... More injections, more tooth stabbings.  Wait ..... More injections (into the tooth?), more tooth stabbings.  Wait .....Still there is pain - lots of it.  Tingling around the lips starts about now.  With that work begins on the extraction, but it is too painful. More injections, more tooth stabbings.  Wait .....  By now I'm thinking just get it over with .. get on with it.  I'm unable to say it as my mouth is open.  He seems to read my mind.  Then there begins a series of yanking, pushing, pulling, twisting.  There is another loud crack as a piece of the iceberg that is inhabiting my mouth breaks off.  A bloody shard rises from my mouth guided by long nose tweezers, and disappears into a stainless steel bowl.  Another series of yanking, pushing, pulling, twisting.  I am asked if I am alright.  Silly question.  Another series of yanking, pushing, pulling, twisting. Then just as I'm convinced that the next crack will remove part of my jaw "It's all out".  Instructions follow about care and recovery, but I am in shock and not paying attention.  I have a strong desire to run - anywhere so long as its away.  I stay in the waiting room that felt hot when I came in but now feels cold.  Jo arrives in the car and we leave.  I am relieved to get home.  Now I have to wait until the anaesthetic wears off.  It is still getting stronger.  I cannot now sense my tongue except where it touches the other side of my mouth, or ventures into the newly created pit.  The tingling sensation moves from my jaw to my neck and ever so slowly drains away.  The next day there is a missed call from the dentist. It's an effort to ring back, but I have to know.  They are just checking I am OK.  I must have looked half dead the night before. Salt hot water mouth washes occur twice a day, always followed by the taste of blood.  It should heal in two weeks the leaflet I was handed jokes. After the two weeks is up I stop the mouthwashes for a bit.  The gum surrounding the hole gets very sore but the volume of foul tasting matter that I can suck from the ex-tooth reduces. At about 3 weeks I begin to feel something sharp sticking out of the gum.  I work away at it, thinking it's something I've tried to eat.  When I finally get it free and out of my mouth it is no bigger that a small piece of cut-off finger nail, but it is twice as hard and twice as sharp.  A remnant of the tooth I think.  The healing process now speeds up noticeably.  Two days ago another similar occurrence.  Another remnant is expelled from the gum.  The last one I hope.

So why have I scared you / depressed you with this sorry tale.  Well there was a doctor on the Radio talking about pain.  I've long been convinced (from personal experience) that the medical profession in general have little or no idea about pain.  They cannot suppress it, predict it, or even measure it.  But they can and do pontificate about it.  Then a couple of days later there was someone (half heard, I admit) saying that we should accept the pain that God has allowed us to suffer, and that this can bring relief and even growth. I'm not sure it was referring to these little one-offs, but I'll have to give it more thought.  I didn't end up praying while in the chair, there wasn't a gap in the process that allowed me to focus.  Yes, I know, I shouldn't need to focus, but there it is.

I realise that the experience described above is but a 'nothing' in terms of chronic long term conditions. I am fortunate that I have not suffered in that way.