I had an issue (that’s the only term that applies here, despite my dislike for this overused word) with one of my front teeth and have been waiting for the money to have it taken care of.
I’ve had dental coverage at work, but the Cigna HMO plan has to be the suckiest of all the sucky dental plans in the world. I waited patiently, looking like a crackhead because of my tooth, until a new enrollment period started so that I could upgrade to the Cigna PPO plan and choose a dentist who was aware of the new developments in dentistry and whose practice was nothing like that dentist in The Little Shop of Horrors.
I chose Dr. Jason Eaglin. (He attended LSU as an undergrad and Howard U. for dental school, he was his class president and gave the commencement speech at graduation…yada – yada – yada) who has an office within walking distance of my home.
He looks pretty nice in the photo, doesn’t he? Wouldn’t hurt a fly…
I am not a fly.
It’s not his fault that the 20 or more injections he gave me (“just a pinch”) had absolutely no effect on me and that I was crying like a kid during my deep cleaning and the first extraction. It’s not his fault that I was crying again when he shaved my teeth in preparation of the bridge I need.
Okay. If I had taken much better care of these choppers, I wouldn’t have suffered so much this week, but if the treatments weren’t so painful, I would have kept all those dental appointments – it’s a crazy circular logic thing.
I had the deep scale cleaning thing, the teeth shaving thing, the extraction times three thing – my mouth was wide open from 8:30 until 1:30 on Monday. After Dr. Eaglin called it quits for the day, I looked like a refugee of war or an escapee from some type of mental hospital. My mascara had run all over my face, my lips were ashy white and I had a crazed look in my eye.
I walked home, feeling very sorry for myself with my sore mouth, sore jaw and sore throat. I took a tour of “pityland” and called my girl Faye at work to try to explain. She’d had a few of the procedures and listened sympathetically to my cotton mouthed mumblings and insisted that I get my prescription for pain killer filled immediately.
Aw hells yeah! Opiate based pain medication is the silver lining of the dental drama. I floated to sleep, then awoke to take more pills and to float back to sleep again. Rinse, repeat.
In between, I sent text messages to friends to explain why I would not be speaking for a couple of days. I received great messages back and a big surprise: my sweet friend Jason came to take care of me. He rubbed my back and neck until I fell asleep and then hung out with my son Jack for the evening. (Jayce is a guy I once dated* (*code for slept with) for a few months, who’s still a very good friend).
I went back to his office on Wednesday for part 2 and it wasn’t half as bad as the Monday torture session. His staff is the greatest and Dr. Eaglin is a wonderful dentist. Despite my many complaints, he continued to encouraged me to “hang in there” and told me “you’re doing great”. My teeth are cleaner than they’ve been for years and the temporary caps look just like my teeth. I can’t wait until my bridge comes in and I look like myself again. (I do the “Elvis” upper lip down low thing to cover the gaping HOLE in my head).
I’m back to work today and the concern of my coworkers who are stopping by my desk to check on me has brought real tears to my eyes. It’s cool to be missed.
See – I had a good reason for not posting this time. Have a good weekend all!