Today’s ‘Daily Prompt’ was a bit repetitive from a recent post, so I thought I would entertain you with a little story instead.

Mouths are fucking gross.

I’m not sure why I have such a deep-seeded aversion to dentistry. I’m an avid flosser. I brush two, sometimes three times a day. I scrape my tongue. I have excellent oral health. Yet…

I cannot stand going to the dentist. The sounds: the drill, the suction straw, my nails digging into the plastic dental chair. The smells: tooth dust, latex gloves, sealant. The tastes: lidocaine, metal, the rubber dam. And the sensations: fear of swallowing the accumulated spit, the drill vibrating your entire skull, the metal scraping your teeth…. <Bleh>

My husband had a “funny tooth”. It was the strangest thing, a baby tooth that was forgotten about and allowed to remain while his adult teeth grew in around it. It wasn’t a big deal. I adverted my eyes as much as possible when he smiled. Baby tooth out of sight, out of mind. Just one of those traits that people have. The family has cracked some pretty great jokes about his baby tooth over the years. It wasn’t an issue. Until it was.

My husband’s baby tooth cracked a few months back and started to disintegrate. What was left was a sliver of a snaggle tooth that started to turn brown. When my husband threw his head back to howl at my latest witty comeback, we got a view into a black hole with a shell of a broken tooth.

I begged my husband to get it fixed. The man has no issues dropping money on car parts and dumb shit, but trying to get him to spend money on his health and/or “aesthetics” was like… pulling teeth.

My persistence finally wore him thin and he agreed to go into the dentist. I’m not going to bore you with the specifics because, well, quite frankly, I don’t know the specifics. As soon as my husband started talking about the procedure, I tuned him out. All I know is there were multiple appointments to get my husband’s grill fixed.

One night, in between said appointments, he reached in his mouth with two fingers and pulled out the loose temporary tooth!!! I about passed out. For two days before his appointment, I got the pleasure of staring into a gaping black hole where a tooth should have been. It was fucking disgusting. Nauseating. I avoided my husband like he had the plague.

I couldn’t kiss him; hugs were quick, with my head turned as far away from him as possible. I couldn’t sit across from him at the dinner table, for fear I would see that while eating. I slept with my back turned to him. I surely didn’t say anything that would cause him to laugh. I hurt his feelings. I know. My behavior earned me the nickname ‘Shallow Hal’ for the subsequent months. I don’t care. I couldn’t do it.

Fast forward to today…

I was chloroformed and had bleach poured into my mouth.

Okay, that’s a bit dramatic. Karma did get back at me, however. The Endodontist used chloroform and sodium hypochlorite to help treat and rework a root canal. About 15 years ago, I broke a tooth eating popcorn. My dentist at the time wasn’t able to save the tooth and performed a root canal. Come to find out, he completely missed removing one nerve and didn’t drill <shudder> deep enough on another. About a week ago, persistent pressure morphed quickly into ugly-crying pain.

This whole ordeal has wrecked me. I feel… defeated, by the two hours spent in the chair, my every muscle clenched in fear the entire time. I’ve never been punched in the face, but I have a pretty good idea what that would feel like. My jaw is throbbing. My lip is torn. Pain is shooting into my ear and the pressure in my sinuses is debilitating.

And this was just Round 1.

I’m sitting in bed, with an ice pack strapped to my face, only able to drink liquids for the next several hours. I can’t consume anything hot, “for fear of burning exposed tissue”. I can’t have dairy because of the type of antibiotic I’m on. Lots of plant-based protein shakes full of self-pity for this girl over the next few days.

As she was handing me my 800 mg Ibuprofen prescription (what the fuck is it with doctors and their Motrin obsessions!?), the Endodontist said I get look forward to about a week’s worth of pain. Then I get to go back so she can tackle what she couldn’t accomplish in the first two hours.

I don’t have a gaping black hole for a tooth, so that is a positive. Considering I haven’t had any severe issues until recently, I also think got off pretty easy. But Karma always does catch up to us, doesn’t she?

Thanks for keeping me company while I sit here feeling sorry for myself. I’ll be back to posting sarcasm and humor soon! 🙂

~Cari