A daily photo-blog of my life as an American transplanted in the UK.
Monday, 16 February 2009
Day 139 of 365: Root of the Problem
This is where I spent 45 minutes of my life this afternoon receiving my first ever root canal - The Dental Surgery in Quinton. Turns out it was my bottom right molar (broken last June) that was the culprit of the pain, not the wisdom tooth, as previously thought.
Since late last Thursday, I have been slowly deteriorating and feeling like my brain was leaking out of my ears at one point. The pain was absolute torture...and from what some Google sources have told me, worse (in some cases) than actually being in labour. I began taking Nurofen Thursday night and through Friday. However, by Saturday night, the pain was no longer mild and it reduced me to absolute tears. Poor Matt felt so helpless with me curled up in the fetal position clutching my head in my hands. First it would start in my lower jaw and go into the roof of my mouth before shooting a sharp pain into my ears and then behind my eyes. Every now and again the pain would change course and shoot down through my neck and back up into my throat before finishing in my temple with a throbbing force leaving me feeling as though my head was in a vice.
*insert virtual feeling of migraine + ear infection + ice cream headache + fever + strep throat + being punched in the lower jaw* (THAT is how it felt)
The only way I could sleep was being doped up on Paramol and 400mg Ibuprofen whilst lying my head on top of a sock-covered, scalding hot, old malt vinegar jar filled with water (which hubby was lovingly re-heating through the kettle every couple of hours).
I was able to get in to see the dentist yesterday, who prescribed me some Amoxicillin, (see day 138) and from there an appointment was made again in Cradley Heath for a possible extraction this morning. When we got in, the dentist took a brief look and suggested we go to his other office in Quinton as they have NHS capacity and it would cost us less. Before we left, he suggested that I have my broken molar extracted and assured me the wisdom tooth would then move into its place. Upon being seen by the dentist in Quinton, he had an alternative plan. First, he said if the molar was extracted, a replacement tooth would be necessary. Then he suggested an X-Ray to see how poorly the molar actually was and then determined there was an 80% chance of saving the tooth with a root canal. My appointment was immediately booked for 2:20pm this afternoon.
Thankfully Matt was allowed to go into the room with me. The dentist was fantastic and honestly restored my faith in dentistry. I didn't feel ANY pain whatsoever and the worst part of it all was attempting to have a flip-top head and keep my mouth open for him to work. I go back in next Monday to have my gold crown fitted and that's that...all done...fin! I'm not sure how I feel about the crown itself being gold, but I was assured it is stronger than the enamel version. I keep telling Matt that if I'm going to have a gold tooth, I need to also accompany that with a diamond-encrusted grill as well. Sadly, he thinks I'm joking.
After two and a half years in a long-distance relationship, I packed my life of 29 years into 21 boxes and moved to England to marry and be with my husband, Matt. Now I'm reveling in the youth of my 30s in Great Britain, supply-teaching in primary schools near Birmingham and enjoying newlywed life, being a mommy, and all the surprises they bring!