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It has been almost a week since the extraction of my lower wisdom teeth; if you were to ask me beforehand if I would still be taking pain medication, I would have laughed at you and given you a nougy (not only am I a poor speller in formal English, my lack of skill spills over into the colloquial.) For some reason my right tooth did not want to go quietly into the night.
Let me back up; the sleepy-time medicine did not work for me nor did the laughing gas–I am sure I could still do long division and differential equations if I had a graphing calculator. Luckily the novacain worked. The left tooth was no problem, but the right tooth put up a fight; in an act of selfishness, the tooth somehow nicked my artery and made me bleed…real bad. Did I mention it was about 5:45 pm at this point? The normal time for dentists and oral surgeons to go home. After some phone calls, my dentist got me into an oral surgeon. Sara drove me to Mill Creek–from Everett–to have an oral surgeon’s assistant pull all the gauze out of my mouth and cause it to fill with blood–hmm, this man was sent because the dentist could not stop the bleeding, maybe some care would be part of the protocol. After vacuuming blood from my mouth, packing the hole with bone wax, and sewing it shut the oral surgeon insisted that I go the the ER to make sure I did not lose too much blood (ETA is about 8:00 pm.)
By the time we arrived at the ER, I felt like I needed some pain medication. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain–partly because I hate pain medication–but I knew after all of the finagling that happened in my jaw that I needed some medicine. On arrival my pain level was at a 2. By 10:40 pm when the nurse finally gave me two Percocet my pain level rose to about a 7.
Had I known that I would be forced into the black hole of medical care, I would have had them put me out to take out my wisdom teeth. Many people learn something after such a traumatic experience, the only thing that I learned: Percocet does not constipate you like Vicodin.
…who’ll stop the rain. I woke up yesterday with some awesome tooth pain. After calling my oncologist to make sure I could get dental work, calling my dentist to make an emergency appointment, and going in for a blood draw to check my blood cell levels; the consensus is that my body does not like me right now. All of this hither-tither resulted in my first–and I hope last–root canal.
If you look at my previous post about teeth (link) you will understand that there is a strong theological connection between failing teeth and falling humans. I am baffled that no theologian of note has used this metaphor; when the old has gone and the new has come (II Corinthians 5:17), I am looking forward to new teeth. There is an interesting book by an Anglican theologian named N.T. Wright called Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Ressurection, and the Mission of the Church that examines what happens when we die. Wright, from what I gather so far, believes that we will be resurrected and have new bodies; I am excited to have perfect teeth and both my testicles–hmm, would I need testicles after being resurrected? Despite my degression, I think my point is valid: the metaphor of failing teeth illustrates the human condition. It is not until we recognize the weakness of our teeth–admitting we cannot fix them and we need help–that we need something to heal them–the dentist. If I was not tired I am sure I could fit grace into the haphazard exegesis, but for now I am satisfied that this is my rough draft.
Tomorrow my root canal will be completed and Thursday I will have my last chemotherapy treatment. Over the last month and a half I have made up for all the times I have not gone to the doctor or the dentist; I should be good for a while. I am not sure how my wife does it; she has basically three children to take care of and she still manages to wake up everyday. Thank you Sara for loving your husband; you deserve a pony or a monkey.
After Adam eats from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil Genesis says:
17 To Adam he said, “Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat of it,’
“Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat of it
all the days of your life.18 It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.19 By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return.” Genesis 3:17-19
It is also obvious that teeth lost their strength by eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Not only will you toil for your food, that food will make your mouth ache.
On Friday I chipped a tooth on some crunchy chips while waiting for the bus; today I went to the dentist hoping to solve the problem. After a prolonged drilling session, the dentist pronounced a root canal would be necessary. Now my temporary filing–which I will call Steve–feels oddly like kitty litter and my tooth hurts, so much so it feels like other teeth hurt, just to sympathize with their brethren. Tooth pain has to be the origin of swear words…or maybe war, it’s a toss up.
Other than this tooth pain, my first ever ingrown toenail, replacing the alternator in the Va-Car, and getting a flat tire riding my bike to school things are going well. Fear not, things will get better and I will be able to remember those things once my tooth stops aching!
