Tag Archives: Probed

Fishhooked and Rooted

In case you missed it: last Thursday on the way to the B-52’s concert, I broke yet another tooth. This time a molar. On a fried cheese stick.

As a result, I had my first official root canal on Monday. And I have to say it was two hours of suck.

Suckage #1: I didn’t get to see my regular hot-dentist-man as he was already booked that day, so I had to see one of his associates. Who wasn’t pretty on the eyes to me: he was a tall, lanky, ginger man. But he was pleasant enough and managed to work me into his schedule.

Suckage #2: After X-rays were taken, it was decided that the tooth itself couldn’t be repaired directly. Which left my options at either have the tooth pulled, or have a root canal and shape and fill the tooth in preparation for an *upcoming* procedure. Because this is the same side I had the previous tooth pulled on, and I’m already missing the back molar, hot-dentist-man’s plan was to use this now-broken molar as an anchor for a partial. So I really needed to keep what I could of it. Damn. There goes $1300 I didn’t have to play with.

Suckage #3 and #4: I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m not a fan of needles. (I wonder if anyone really is?) So when Ginger Dentista started jabbing needles into my gums and injecting whatever he injected to deaden the area, I was slightly unnerved. The nitrous really wasn’t doing anything for me other than making me feel tired, but it was making me feel anxious. Actually, I think I was more unnerved because Ginger Dentista had his finger in between by teeth and my lips and was doing this weird shaking thing to it while he was doing the injections. Which made me think I was being fishhooked.

After which I was left sit for about 5 minutes for the numb to kick in. This was the view I had while I waited:

Suckage #I-Lost-Count: Then Tooth Assistant Lady put this rubber door opener thingy into my mouth to wedge it open. Not happy about that I was. And then she started attaching this rubber sheet dam thing around my tooth and attached some scaffolding to it on the outside of my face. From my viewpoint, I thought I looked like a Predator. Not Chris Hansen Predator, but the Predator from those Ah-nold movies. I wanted to snap a picture, but I couldn’t.

So now I’m laying there with my mouth wedged open, half my face numb, and a nasty-tasting rubber sheet touching my tongue. Saliva city! Of which I had a difficult time swallowing thanks to the numb. I thought for sure I was going to choke a few times.

And they haven’t even started the procedure yet!

But when they do start the procedure, whatever Dremel attachment Ginger Dentista was using made the loudest noise in my head I have ever heard. And not a good noise either. I can’t even begin to describe it. But I shall attempt to. Imagine golf cleats grinding down a chalkboard, amplified 1000 times. While river dancing. Yep. That’s pretty close to what it sounded like. With a little reverberation to boot. Kind of like listening to Yoko Ono having an orgasm. Underwater. While being humped by a whale. Or listening to Ke$ha.

That lasted a good hour. Or it felt like an hour. I think I was internally deaf by the time they were finished.

Ginger Dentista got the tooth root out, and made whatever changes he had to make to the tooth to pack it with some substance that will stay put until I go back for an “upgrade” at some point down the road.

Then sent me home with instructions to take ibuprofen every 6 hours until my face stops hurting.

Which it hasn’t. Yet. For the most part.

Until next time...

A Tooth Story

“Picture Pages, Picture Pages, Time to get your Picture Pages, Time to get your crayons and your pencils…”. Except that I’m not drawing anything for this post. But it’s a story in pictures none the less.

A tooth. It cracked. Saturday evening.
Not that you can see it in this crappy picture,
But that tooth is wiggling in that picture.

It was painful.
Why is it that when a tooth injury occurs, it’s always on a weekend?
Waiting until Monday really sucks.

I managed to focus the pain away,
With the help of a lot of ibuprofen.
Then a large chunk of tooth broke off Sunday evening.

It was even more painful.
Ibuprofen only does so much.
There were sensitive parts exposed.

I made lots of sad faces.
Even while I was waiting for hot-dentist-man to see me I had sad face.
Poor sad face.

X-rays were shot through me.
Hot-dentist-man declared the tooth must go!
I don’t like pain. Or needles. (Ironic, eh?)

Then hot-dentist-man gave me nitrous.
And I wasn’t as sad anymore.
Even when he stuck needles in my mouth several times.

After the numby stuff kicked in,
And with a few quick tugs,
Hot-dentist-man removed what was left of the tooth from my head.

But I was slightly distracted.
The chair was tilted back and hot-dentist-man was standing in his scrubs.
And his basket-of-plenty was mashed up against my shoulder.

If I had a picture of his basket-of-plenty, I would post it here.]

I was sent home with care instructions and pain medication.
The result of which kept me in a groggy distracted state on the couch.
The kittehs used me as a warm bed.

Now I have a hole where the tooth used to be.
The hole must be filled!
I will find out about replacement options in January when I go in for my checkup with hot-dentist-man.

What’s really bizarre?
I find the whole situation ironic.
I dressed as the tooth fairy for Halloween once.


Until next time...

Hooked on a Non-Insured Feeling

The Husbear has mostly recovered from his bout with the flu. I am finally starting to feel a lot more mobile. Hard to imagine one could get tired of lying on the couch, but I’m pretty darn past that point.

I wonder if this guy makes house calls? I bet he could make me feel better.

lick to embiggen

I have no idea what to even do at a gym to think about looking like that!

But back to what I was writing about….

This is the first time I’ve been seriously sick since I left the employ of Wal-Mart. And the first time I’ve had to pay for medications that weren’t covered by health insurance in some part. Holy crap! Non-insured medical and pharmaceutical costs are horrific. $65 for one office visit (discounted because I paid cash), $120 for the Husbear’s medications, and $165 for my medications. I’d hate to think how empty our wallet would if something serious happened! Or how maybe we’d be refused medical care because of that.

I know some of this is the Husbear and my own “doing”: we are both self-employed. That’s one of the trade-offs that is hard to offset by being your own boss. But health insurance should not be one of the things that you have to trade away. The Husbear hasn’t had health insurance since we’ve been together, which for the most part hasn’t been a problem because he rarely gets sick or injured. I lost my health insurance when I chose to become self-employed.

It’s not that we haven’t looked for health insurance that covers visits and medications. It exists. But not at what I would consider any “reasonable” price. It seems you have two choices: either pay “low” premiums for what I would call “disaster coverage” that covers only catastrophic situations, or pay extremely high premiums to cover regular visits and medications. And don’t even get me started on dental or vision. No wonder so many people in this country don’t have health insurance! At least the self-employed people. Or people who work for small businesses that cannot afford a group health plan to offer their 10 employees.

I know all insurances are really just a gamble, but the older we get the better our odds are that we will need it. Any suggestions from any readers out there? Is anyone who my blog self-employed and have decent health coverage?

Until next time...

Finger Bang!

It looks like homer wasn’t the only person to get a finger poke this week. I was the proud recipient of said greased up finger today as well. AFTER having my balls fondled and squeezed for a bit. My doctor is apparently thorough when it comes to the family jewels. Then he politely asked me to turn around and rest my elbows on the table at which point he used the ice cold lube from hell to aid his finger insertion which found it’s way DEEP into my rectum. I think he found my tonsils. I know where my prostate is, but I think he was checking the dark side of the moon.

I went in for the results of some lab work from “The Great Blood Taking” last week and got surprised with having this physical as well. And a tetanus booster. And an EKG. All the lab work came back negative and normal, so that’s good.

I guess he’s just being “cautious” since I have no idea of what my family medical history is (I’m adopted).

Still, you think they would at least have lube that’s warm…

Until next time...