I have been suffering a serious case of toothache since January. Yes, this is serious. And when I mean serious, it’s the kind of pain that would make you pray novenas to the saints. The kind which would force you to lay earthly offerings to the gods of relief. And the pain is always recurring–say, I bite something hard like a corn hull with the wrong tooth, it would ache for minutes. Sometimes, the tooth would make “tantrums” at night which would leave me sleepless in Seattle. Since then, make sure that I have my painkillers with me, in case the stupid tooth aches.
And since it is health break, I thought that it would be a good idea for me to [finally] visit a dentist after almost seven years. Remember, I said “I thought.”
And so last Monday, I went to the dentist at the UP Health Service without an appointment, and I was able to find a schedule that very afternoon. Here’s what happened.
The dentist was approachable, and seemed like she knew what she’s doing (of course, she’s a dentist for crying out loud!). I relayed her my previous extraction experience seven years ago when the dentist wasn’t really careful that I only felt excruciating pain inside her goddamn clinic. She took note of it then consequently asked me if I really wanted to do the “operation.” Of course I wanted to continue! The. tooth. is. killing. me! She then checked my blood pressure and all those measures to see if I was really prepared, then began injecting anesthesia to my gums. It didn’t really hurt (or I only fooled myself just to get over with everything) but the moment she put pressure on the tooth, it hurt as hell. It was then I realized that the anesthesia wasn’t working for me.
Now, the pulling.
She then began using forceps to pull it out but the dentist had a hard time pulling it out. Nope, not today, son. My tooth has too much calcium and flouride! She tried another time, then crack! My molar cracked big time, I thought it was a relief! Only to find out that it was still there, it only cracked. God. She tried another time, but she saw my face twitching, asked me if I was alright, then declared that we go on a short break. Wow, a break on an operation, why not. A couple of minutes passed, she entered and told me that she had to give me more anesthesia. And welcome to the anesthesia party. She tried another time using a different kind of forceps, but still she was denied.
To make the story short, after series of attempts and two shots of anesthesia, I requested her to defer the procedure because it was already too painful for me. Now I am left with a half-extracted tooth. She gave me medication which, according to her, would make the anesthesia work better. She instructed me to take them for a week, and she scheduled the extraction exactly one week from today. I told her it would be a holiday so we moved it to Tuesday, Feb. 26. And there, I have no choice but to go back to the dentist and finish this unfinished task.
Now I am typing this with swollen cheeks. And you wonder why people don’t like to visit the dentist?