Today's entry has been brought to you by the letter T and the number 3

I think the last week can be summed up by relaying the following conversation:

Super happy dental office reception lady: Good afternoon, Dr.'s C, G and S's office, how may I help you?

Me (not so super, not so happy): Hello, I had some dental work done a week ago and am wondering if increasing amounts of pain is a normal thing.....truthfully, I'm thinking that maybe I've developed dry sockets in the lower 2 extraction sites.....

Her (still really very happy): Oh??!! Well, you would KNOW if it was that........ (sounding skeptical)

Me: It sort of feels like my head is being eaten....from the inside out......

Her: Oh! Yes, that definitely sounds like it! We'll get you in right away!


Within an hour of seeing the dentist for an extremely simple, 2 minute procedure, I was finally free from the mind numbing pain of the last week leaving me wondering why I didn't just break down and make that call sooner?

Random observations from the last 24 hours :

1. Before dental surgery they give you a helpful piece of paper which outlines the pre-op protocol and post-op expectations. The words pain and discomfort are used on more than one occasion. Is there anywhere on that document that informs you of the fact that the procedure will leave you feeling as though you were left licking the kill floor of the local meat packing plant while someone beats you with a 2X4? No, no there's not. But I'm thinking that it would be a far better, and more enlightening description.

2. This is somewhat related to #1 - I'm fairly certain that Sookie eats a lot more breath mints and spicy gum than she lets on.

3. People are allowed to obtain prescriptions for injectable things like hormones, insulin and heparin....why not lidocaine? I think part of the post-op goodie bag should contain your own personal injection kit with a day or two's supply of local anaesthetic.

4. Observation at the oral-maxillofacial surgeon's office:

As you sit in the comfortable waiting room, you see people arrive to pick up their "charges" but you never actually see them leave. That's because the post-op crowd gets to leave out of the super sneaky back door exit. I'm sure, if asked, that they would tell you that it's for your own personal sense of privacy and dignity, but really.....it's all about the bottom line. If I saw someone leave through the front door looking that way that I know I did, I probably would have made a pretty hasty retreat.


5. Even if you are driving a totally hot, brand new Mustang GT, peeling out of the Tim Horton's drive through, tires squealing, with a bunch of empty Hagen Daz boxes stuck in your spoiler is still no cooler than swaggering out of the men's room with toilet paper trailing from your shoe.

I realize that my blood vessels are currently pumping a vertible cocktail of narcotics through my body (Midazolam, Fentanyl and Propofol with several T3 chasers) and as such my perceptions may be a little skewed....but I'm pretty sure that these photos are an accurate portrayal of my day.

Once upon a time a naive young girl (ok...maybe that's a bit of a stretch) moved away to a city halfway across the country with her husband and 3 young children. The move was made for the sole purpose of helping the husband advance his career and the lure of significantly more money, combined with a fairly extensive benefit package made it seem like the perfect opportunity. Deciding to be pro-active with the health and well-being of her mouth our young ingenue decided to procure the services of one of the local dental offices. After conducting what she though was a thorough search to determine the best possible professional in which to trust her precious pearls she was excited to find an brand new office mere minutes from her husband's place of employment. Upon entering the building she was relieved, or as relieved as one can get when walking into a dental office, at the squeaky newness of the building and the cheerful and professional staff that worked inside. And so she began on a quest to help her mouth be all that it could be.

One year and enough money to put the dentist's children through med school, our protagonist began to have a sneaking suspicion that this dentist was not all that he was made out to be and she began to wonder if, perhaps, he had obtained his degree from one of those online programs promising a PhD and employment in one year's time. This suspicion was quickly confirmed when she showed up for an appointment to correct some previous work and found that the jovial individual masquerading as a dentist had completely bailed on his practice and disappeared into the proverbial sunset.

Fast forward 3 years later....no longer the innocent young thing that she once was, our lead is now in significant amounts of pain as the dental work done in the city has fallen apart leaving her mouth in a jagged mess of ruin. Ridiculously attentive oral hygiene has done little to stave off the damage and a qualified professional has confirmed that despite her best efforts, the previous work was not up to par and will have to be "corrected". We will used the word corrected as an umbrella to cover such procedures as extractions, bridge work, implants and whatever exactly a periodontal specialist does when they are referencing "bone surgery."

And so she begins the quest once again, a little more wary, but hopeful nonetheless, that tomorrows proceedings will finally be a brand new start.