The Tooth, Vol II
It's now gone.
Well, no. Not gone gone. It's in a little plastic case, sitting atop a piece of blue foam. The point is: the wisdom tooth that was causing me so much pain and discomfort is no longer in my mouth.
Melissa, on a whim, contacted her childhood dentist. He was going to be in his office late on Friday and suggested I stop in. He'd take a quick x-ray of the tooth ($28) and we could politely talk about options. I stopped by, the tech captured the tooth, and Bruce looked at it. As he'd just finished with a set of extractions on a twelve-year-old kid, he had all the tools out. The tooth was nestled in somewhat deep for a simple extraction, but certainly within his reach. We discussed things for a bit and it boiled down to two options: A) he could write me a script for antibiotics to help reduce the inflammation (pericoronitis) that was causing my pain, then he could pull the tooth next week, or, since the dinner he and his receptionist-wife were going to wasn't until seven, B) he could pull the tooth there and then.
Later, at the front desk, he was discussing the bill. Now, the type of extraction I had was a exploded wisdom tooth with flap ($234), though more precisely, it was a partially-impacted wisdom tooth, partially-exploded, with pericoronitis, requiring sutures ($283). Dr. Johnson had worked on Melissa since she started having teeth, and as I am her husband, he charged me for a basic extraction ($144). And he's letting me make payments.
But I made the mistake last night, post- biting on gauze to staunch the bleeding, post- saline rinses, of thinking that since I was going to bed, I wouldn't need to take another dose of ibuprofen. Hah! I was up at 1:15 taking Advil and trying to figure out why our filtered water tasted like bad tap - bad pipes - all rust-and-copper....
On a different note, I've (finally) begun House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. I would like to take a moment to damn antarcticlust and jackshoegazer for suggesting it. The book is addictively good, but fucked in that "Hey, let's eat mushrooms and then watch Jan Svenkmayer's 'Alice'!" sort of way.
Well, no. Not gone gone. It's in a little plastic case, sitting atop a piece of blue foam. The point is: the wisdom tooth that was causing me so much pain and discomfort is no longer in my mouth.
Melissa, on a whim, contacted her childhood dentist. He was going to be in his office late on Friday and suggested I stop in. He'd take a quick x-ray of the tooth ($28) and we could politely talk about options. I stopped by, the tech captured the tooth, and Bruce looked at it. As he'd just finished with a set of extractions on a twelve-year-old kid, he had all the tools out. The tooth was nestled in somewhat deep for a simple extraction, but certainly within his reach. We discussed things for a bit and it boiled down to two options: A) he could write me a script for antibiotics to help reduce the inflammation (pericoronitis) that was causing my pain, then he could pull the tooth next week, or, since the dinner he and his receptionist-wife were going to wasn't until seven, B) he could pull the tooth there and then.
Later, at the front desk, he was discussing the bill. Now, the type of extraction I had was a exploded wisdom tooth with flap ($234), though more precisely, it was a partially-impacted wisdom tooth, partially-exploded, with pericoronitis, requiring sutures ($283). Dr. Johnson had worked on Melissa since she started having teeth, and as I am her husband, he charged me for a basic extraction ($144). And he's letting me make payments.
But I made the mistake last night, post- biting on gauze to staunch the bleeding, post- saline rinses, of thinking that since I was going to bed, I wouldn't need to take another dose of ibuprofen. Hah! I was up at 1:15 taking Advil and trying to figure out why our filtered water tasted like bad tap - bad pipes - all rust-and-copper....
On a different note, I've (finally) begun House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. I would like to take a moment to damn antarcticlust and jackshoegazer for suggesting it. The book is addictively good, but fucked in that "Hey, let's eat mushrooms and then watch Jan Svenkmayer's 'Alice'!" sort of way.