The Dental Saga: D-Day

My breakfast today is 4 capsules of antibiotics and a couple of other meds from my vast pharmaceutical buffet. We have an hour’s drive to the oral surgeon’s office. A 7:15 am check-in means leaving our house at 6:00 am. It feels like the middle of the night because the sun has not risen yet. Yawn.

Scotty, please beam me here NOW! I want to be here!

Of course, I am ready to go on time. No coffee (fasting remember?), and makeup is a total no-no. Comfy, loose clothing is required. I should have just stayed in my jammies. Because this surgery involved my entire mouth, it was a much bigger deal than having an extraction and 1 bone graft/implant to do. I know I had built it up in my head, but getting prepped for surgery was a new deal that morning. The surgical room was larger, more personnel were bustling about and I had an anesthesiologist of my own to keep me under and watch my vitals. The nitrious did not calm me down, but getting the IV in was painless. The last thing I remember was figuring out where I heard all the annoying beeping sounds before. The sounds of a heart monitor.

~ ~ ~ 3 hours later ~ ~ ~

Before I had completely woken up I felt intense pain and all I wanted was to go back to sleep. But no. All those people were there talking to me, telling me it was over and what a good patient I have been. I was unable to comment – I was gagged with pads of gauze. But the only thing “over” was for them. When they told me I had to go back to Doc’s so he could finish with the old crowns, so the denture could be placed, I wept.

We had to drive an hour to get to Doc’s. Surg sent the tools and parts he would need to “safe” the old implants. I was still under the influence and the demoral had begun to diminish. Novocane is not as effective on me – it starts wearing off as soon as I am numb. I should have been able to go home and take pain meds. Not today. It was another 90 minutes before I could snuggle into my reclyner.. An hour after that, the pain meds kicked in and I slept through TV.

A day or so later, I thought about being told (enthusiastically, at that) how great I did during surgery. What does that mean? I was unconscious. Weird.

TTFN

What Does Stress Mean to You?

Final exams? Public Speaking? Drama at Work? Children? Responsibility? Acne?

Each of the above, at one time or another, meant stress for me. The worst stressor, to me, is Dread. Do not confuse dread with fear; that is totally different. Dread is that dark cloud hovering over your head of something to come. You know it’s going to happen. Maybe you don’t know when exactly it is scheduled, but soon. You don’t know how things will go or what realities are involved. The only thing you know for sure is that it will be extremely painful.

No one sat me down and told me, “it will be extremely painful.” I know from experience that it will be painful because I have survived many of these surgeries on a much smaller scale, and they were very painful to recover from.

The Dread (my cloud of doom) began last summer after discussing with my dentist and implant surgeon the best course of action for the bone loss in my jaw and my broken teeth. I would have one or two implants yearly, which did not cover the damage. This was only playing catch-up. We were all sick and tired of my oral trauma. Yet, the solution was horrifying. It was decided last summer. The scheduling messed up in August, so months later, the Dread is monumental.

Tomorrow afternoon the prep for the next day’s surgery begins. No scalpels, just drills. Every implant crown and bridge has to come off before the surgery. The ones in the front will make my two front teeth the only teeth at the top. This look is so cute on little girls. I doubt I will post a photo of this look on myself because I doubt I will get any good drugs tomorrow, no matter how much I deserve them. I’m sure I will rant on that subject in the near future.

Because I like to write “sagas” of crap I have to deal with to work it all out from my head, my next few posts [categorized “Jaws”] could involve details that folks already afraid of dentists may find disturbing. For brave souls that want to find out the truthful impact and the recovery process, for future reference – Please join me. It will be educational. Depending on the comments posted, it could be amusing as well.

TTFN

The Annoying Truth

Day 1: Cataract surgery – Right Eye.  Everyone told me it would be a “piece of cake”.  They were correct. When I thought they were rolling me into the surgery, I was actually being rolled out.  I missed the entire thing!  This was a blessing.  I was so nervous about having to watch them cutting into my eyeball.

Day 2: I was able to take off the bandage today and put drops in my eye.  The eye (the right one) was blurry and full of goop. I could not open it all the way. I was expecting to see a miraculous difference – not a worsening of vision.  But I was forewarned that it may take days to see normally.

Day 3: My right eye was still blurry and I could not see a dramatic difference in my sight.  This worried me.  My left eye had the worse vision, so maybe after that surgery, I would be able to focus well.

Day 4: In the morning, I removed the eyepatch and put my AM drops into my eye. I could not believe my face in the mirror. Yes, I had a black eye of course.  It was my skin that freaked me out.  The creases in my forehead were deeper and more predominate.  I was pale and pasty looking with a dry and cracking aura about me. A few days without moisturizer and foundation takes its toll.

Day 5:  The past three days I had a headache.  I decided that a hot shower would help.  It would have helped more if I was not distracted by the filthy grime sticking to the tile grout.  Then there was the tile on the walls – their grout was a pinkish color in spots.  Mildew was growing all around me.

Day 6:  I figured out something.  There is nothing wrong with my right eye.  Every day, I look older & my house is dirtier.

With all the warnings and cautions, my Doc neglected to tell me about those side effects.

♥  TTFN  ♥