What inspires my nightmares

Last week was a wash. I'm surprised that I actually posted an "I Made It Monday" yesterday since most of the week was tussled up in stress and angst. Oh I wish I could blame it on someone else, but 95% of it was my own doing.

You see, I had to go to the dentist on Thursday. And that pretty much ruined my week. It kept me up tossing and turning. It woke me up with nightmares. It prevented me from concentrating on the work that I needed to be doing.

I'm not sure where my fear of dentistry came from. I know it isn't the most pleasant of outings but during my initial appointment at my current dentist they asked me to pinpoint something. The only thing I could think of was once, when I was little, I had an abscess beneath a baby tooth and it was bothering me so much that my mom brought me to the our dentist in the middle of the night to have it taken care of.

(Truthfully, it might not have been the middle of the night, but it was dark out and the dentist opened his office for us - no one else was there - you know, back when doctors did things like that.)

Dr. R. sat me in the chair and after a cursory exam looked me straight in the eye and told me that we could do two things: pull the baby tooth, drain the abscess, and end the pain or leave it alone and maybe it would stop hurting once the tooth fell out naturally.

I'm fairly certain that my choice was to leave it alone but I gather my mom had other ideas. The tooth had to go.

I recall crying and pain, gauze stuffed into the bloody hole where my tooth  had been. And then, the throbbing that had kept me awake and caused all the trouble began to subside.

As far as I can remember that was the single "bad" experience I had at the hands of a dentist. And yet, today, while I might remain outwardly calm in the waiting room, patient in the exam room and courteous at the check-out counter, inside I am a seething ball of panic, twisted into knots made of razors.

My most recent "tooth-ventures" started back in November you can read about that here, here and here) when teeth that I should have taken care of years ago started bothering me and I, in tears, begged for an emergency visit. I had the problem teeth removed the Monday before Thanksgiving with the understanding that once I had healed I would be back in the office to get a treatment plan together and started.

My friends, the dentist had to call me to schedule an appointment. I kept putting it off. Again. Because I don't learn lessons apparently. So last Thursday I had three fillings. Today, I'll have three more. Last week I spent the week in panic mode. During the visit, the nurse, had to literally pry my hands apart. I was clenching them together so tightly that they had turned a dusky purple. I was told to wiggle my toes as much as I liked but "for goodness sake stop shaking your foot so much!"

By the time I got home around 1pm I was exhausted, headachy, and starving (because who could eat before facing a dentist?) so I tried to eat, failed and ended up going to bed until 7 that night. Cyra and Ashleigh came home from school, checked on me and just did their thing.  

Although I know what to expect, I am still fearful. I might claim to be afraid of aliens and zombies because they don't exist* and I really don't have to put too much effort into being afraid of them. I avoid the real things that cause me fear because I don't like how I react. And that, my friends, is why I'll take a nightmare full of zombies, aliens, and bigfoots over any dream that features teeth or the dentist!



*By "don't exist" I mean I totally think life is out there somewhere, I just don't think they waste their time buzzing our planet. And zombies could totally happen. Maybe. And I know that Matt Moneymaker will someday find bigfoot.

Out of Commission

So remember when I posted a bit about my teeth a couple of weeks ago? Here and Here and also Here.

Yeah. I'm having some work done. Surgery-like work. In the morning.

(Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.)

I've prepped some photos to go for the next couple of days.

(Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.)

So. Once I stop hyperventilating, I'm sure I'll be fine.

Fine. Just. Freaking. Fine.

There's a bright side here somewhere, but I can't see it over my panic attack.

(Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.)

I read somewhere once that a smart person learns from their mistakes but the truly wise learn from the mistakes of others. Today, I think I am neither. Today, I teach a lesson. Teeth are important. Fears can be conquered with enough anesthesia. Accepting the consequences of your actions may be one of the hardest things to do but it is vital that we own up and take responsibility.

I accept that my teeth troubles are my own fault. I accept that my fear has kept me from doing something about it sooner and now I have far worse problems. I accept that I am a big chicken and wonder if the dentist will think it odd if I bring a stuffed animal with me for comfort. I accept that I will not being enjoying the fabulous turkey dinner I cook unless it is liquified (but I will be all over that pumpkin pie).

Do you feel better yet, Self?

Yeah...I didn't think so.

Photo A Day - Reflection

I am in pain.

A. Freaking. Lot. Of. Pain.

However, I don't expect sympathy because this is a pain of my own making. So for one quiet moment, let me reflect on why I am in pain - Oh wait, I think I already wrote about it...right...here...

Despite the fact that I have a very low tolerance for pain I have once again managed to wait years before doing anything about my teeth. Fear, my friends, is a strange and powerful force. The other day I posted how I missed the 5am photo shoot I was hoping for because I was up all night nursing a toothache. Scott's very strong words about getting my behind to a dentist were not really needed because I already knew it was time.

A phone call first thing in the morning yesterday landed me an appointment an hour later. And then another with an oral surgeon by lunch time (yes my teeth are really truly that bad). And an hour and a half later I had an appointment scheduled for surgery, a bottle of pain pills, antibiotics and an "I Voted" sticker (although how I managed to vote without passing out from the throbbing in my mouth is beyond me).

I finally got home, popped a pill and oh true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick! Thus with a yawn, I slept! Within a few minutes I was enjoying the first pain free sleep in three and a half days.

Today I am doing better. Not great. But not ready to rip someones head off because a lack of sleep and pain tends to make one grouchy. Who knew?

However, since I am not a hundred percent right now, I'm opting for a few older photos to toss up for today's theme of reflection. Do you mind? Of course you don't, because bloggers are awesome. And you my friends, rock!

Also, if you're interested - those of you who are new (oh! Hello!) - the photos I posted after TS Debby tore through earlier this summer have some very nice reflections in them.

This is part of a month long photo a day challenge hosted by fatmumslim.

Photo A Day - 5 o'clock

It was left up to us to decide if today's prompt meant AM or PM. I choose to go with AM knowing that at 5pm tonight, I'll be at the dentist for the girl's check-up and I'm am uncomfortable posting photos of them and others (as I've mentioned before).

So 5 am it is then. Except this is more like almost 6 am. I was up most of the night with severe tooth pain and I finally dozed off right before 5...so I sort of missed the whole 5am part. I need major dental work. I mean major! And I keep putting it off, not because we don't have insurance, we do, but I am slightly* terrified of dentists and hugely embarrassed that I let my teeth get so bad.

So here is my sort-of close to 5am. I mean it's 5 am in the central part of the country, so that counts. Right?

Breakfast time = Pancake Monday!

Yay! My tea is nearly ready.

Earl Grey. Hot. And also with some sugar (sorry Capt. Picard, I like sweet tea!)

Back to pancaking. Mix. Mix. Mix. Sure it could go faster with an electric mixer, but I like hand beating. Good stress relief.

 

 

And the first cakes go on the griddle. The first ones always end up looking funny. I leave those for Scott to eat.

*make sure you understand that by "slightly" I mean so completely freaked out I often have nightmares about dentists and break out in a cold sweat when I bring the girls to their appointments - which by the way I am obsessive about because I'll be damned if I let happen to their teeth what I let happen to mine!

This is part of a month long photo a day challenge hosted by fatmumslim.

Goings On...

Well, I've had a crazy week. I am working on a post for the camping trip, unfortunately, I am unable to sit at the computer for long periods of time right now, so it might take me until the weekend to get it together. It might also come in more that one post, because a lot happened at camp and I'm going through the pictures, too.

I have been going through so major tooth pain. As many know, I have genetically inferior teeth and made some bad choices about tooth care (like not telling Mom that my wisdom teeth were coming in). And now, I am facing multiple extractions. I've put off the surgery for just about as long as I could because of my dental phobia.

Anyway, I've finally scheduled my appointment, so instead of camping with the girls over spring break I'll be nursing puffy chipmunk cheeks and ingesting nothing but liquid foods...which for some reason reminds me of Kirsten and her lost tooth and Mom putting her dinner in a blender...meat and all.

Me? I'm planning ahead! I know I'll not be able to eat solid food, so next weekend, before my surgery, I plan on making a batch of both Sweet Potato Soup (mmm...so orangey and delightful) and a batch of Strawberry Soup (tangy and oh so cheery red). That way I'll have a hot food and a cold food both full of nutrients and comfort. Will I want to eat? My buddies at work tell me no.

Speaking of them, they have been trying to freak me out about the surgery. I keep telling them, it isn't the surgery that scares me, it is the thought of the sound of the crunch as my teeth are ripped out. I'll be completely put under - otherwise I would just suffer with the pain of bad teeth - because I cannot fathom making it through that "craackkk" and "crunnccchh." And as I need at least six taken out, I know I wouldn't be able to sit through that!

Cyra, of course, wants to know if I'll be bringing the teeth home so the Tooth Fairy will visit me after the surgery. She is such the sweet innocent! I told her that the Tooth Fairy does not reward those who neglect their teeth and have to have a dentist take them out. She nodded sagely as only a six year old can do, and said, "Oh, that makes sense."

Well, that's it for now. I'm off back to my couch and my Oragel.