Monday, February 28, 2011


I wish I could muster up a true abhorrence of dirt and dust, but right now a sickness has rendered me apathetic to my surroundings. In other words, things are bad here. This probably life-threatening illness has strangled my vocal chords, making singing Disney princess songs while sweeping impossible, so of course I don’t want to clean. Plus, I have this headache that seems to be aggravated by motion.

The kids are not all that pleased with me. Caleb and Ben came home from school to find me lying on the couch.

“Mom! Hey mom! Can we have a snack?”

“There is no mom, there is only Zuul,” I replied.

Honest, when I talk I sound like Kathleen Turner if Kathleen Turner had smoked three packs a day.

Plus I have a toothache. An ache within the cavernous depths of my tooth. This is my first-ever toothache, and I must say, it too is aggravating the ache higher up in my head. It’s this horrible throbbing that emanates through the nerve and into my jaw. I’m kind of hoping it just stops, but I have a feeling I’m going to have to succumb to some dental work.

I saw my dentist last week. I had lost a filling about six months ago and finally made an appointment to get it replaced. For the past six months, the tooth has been a horrible food trap, forcing me to floss after every meal and snack. Usually, I figured if I was already flossing in that area, I might as well do the whole mouth. The decay in my tooth got deeper, but my gums have never been in better shape.

So I went to get the tooth fixed last week. My dentist, whom I adore, announced he had joined the army. Immediately, I was concerned about how this was going to affect me.

“How is this going to affect me?” I whined.

He assured me it wouldn’t affect me, as he was just joining the army reserves and would still be maintaining his practice. I may have commented that he seemed a bit old to join the army, and he admitted this was the case, especially since he was “falling apart.”

“You’re falling apart?” I asked. “How is this going to affect ME?”

He told me he had recently suffered from gallstones and was scheduled to have his gallbladder out. I informed him that I had already been through that arduous process. We commiserated over the incredible pain of having a gallbladder attack.

“Isn’t it just the most horrible pain ever?” he asked.

“Worst pain of my life,” I insisted. “Worse than childbirth. And I gave birth to twins.” He reached for the phone.

“I’d like you to please tell that to my wife.” (I didn’t.) “How long did you last before you went to the hospital?” he asked.

“Oh, I was up all night and my husband made me go to the ER in the morning.” His eyes got wide. “Why? How long were you in pain?”

“Ten minutes. I was in pain for ten minutes before I insisted on going to the hospital.”


He filled in my tooth and warned me that the decay had been very deep and that he had drilled frighteningly close to the nerve. He warned that the pulp within the tooth could swell and a root canal might be necessary. If this should occur, I would experience pain, and I should call him right away.

He stated that now that he knew my high tolerance for pain, if I called he would know it was serious and he would get me right in.

That’s a lot of pressure on a girl.

I’m in pain, but not, y’know, horrible, awful pain. This might be because I swiped some of my husband’s codeine. Which, by the way, is another reason perhaps we should be sending more women and fewer men off to war.

My husband has a sinus infection and his male PA gives him cold medicine laced with codeine. I give birth to twins, and I get extra-strength motrin. What the heck?

Still, I think a visit to the dentist and possibly the doctor is in my imminent future. I don’t know if I mentioned that my throat hurts, too. Not a horrible hurt, mind you, but I can’t really eat. I would say I hurt from my shoulders to the tippy top of my head. Gotta get that all fixed up so I can get back to singing… and sweeping.


hokgardner said...

You need to get the tooth taken care of! I ignored an achy tooth, and it broke in half. There wasn't enough left of the tooth to anchor a crown, so now I'm in the midst of the 8-month implant process, which involves bone and tissue grafts and titanium screws into my jaw.

I'd much rather have a root canal.

Holly said...

Well, that terrified me. Sheesh.

Eileen said...

Yeah, I'm with pink socks. Get er done, baby. If you don't it's possible that your adore-able dentist will get called to Iraq in spite of his gall bladder, and you'll end up in the chair of my old, hellbound Rochester dentist who did jail time in the 1980s. I can still smell his pasty hands. They make me shudder like those hyenas did in "The Lion King" when they poked each other and said, "Oooh, Mufasa."