Oct 312006

On Sunday, my bleepin’ tooth started hurting again. I brushed it off, thinking I could wait until Thursday when it was due to be extracted. That same night was rough, as I only got about 1 hour of uninterrupted sleep.

Monday, I decided enough was enough. I called the oral surgeon who was scheduled to do my extractions (five teeth in all – four wisdom, and one molar) and told him I though I had an infection again, and probably needed to be on antibiotics before my surgery. He asked me to come in so he could take a look, so I did.

After a few minutes of poking, prodding, and banging (yes, BANGING) in my sensitive mouth, he told me I should let him pull that tooth right now. After I got over my initial anxiety and shock, I agreed.

So now, here I sit, with my whole face throbbing, and stuck in a Vicodin haze. What fun.

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