It’s November, which once again brings us to National Blog Posting Month (or NaBloPoMo). The challenge to us bloggers is to write 30 entries in 30 days, a challenge which I will attempt. Because I didn’t post yesterday, I will post two entries today.
My finger is healing rather nicely. Well, I assume it is, I can’t see the actual wound as it’s busy healing beneath a cushion of Gelfoam. From what I understand, the Gelfoam also acts as a cellular bridge to enable the cells to bridge the lovely gaping abyss I made, which is supposed to reduce scarring slightly.
Can I just say how morbidly tempted I am to just rip the damn thing off and see how things are progressing? Don’t worry, I won’t remove the Gelfoam, but I’d be lying if I said I had no interest in seeing the damage. Because I want to see in the worst way, but I know taking off the very thing helping me heal would be just open it up again. I really don’t feel like making a return trip to the hospital to get it fixed up again.
Mr. Wench has made me a deal. If I start getting my teeth fixed, I don’t have to give him money towards the bills each week. I never had a cavity until my first pregnancy at 21, and now my mouth is turning on me.
I am petrified at the thought of spending any time in the dentist’s chair. This stems from the extraction of my wisdom teeth in 2007, followed shortly thereafter by my root canal and crown. The dentist who did my wisdom teeth numbed me up with the Novocaine, which can cause shaking…and coupled with my fear of needles, I shook terribly. The dentist doing it (A1 Family Dental in NE Philly), yelled at me to stop shaking, which further enforced my quickly building fear. The plan was to extract the wisdom teeth from one side, and then two weeks later I’d return to get the others removed. Mr. Wench, after I was numbed up, says “Well, since you’re doing that side and you’ve already numbed her entire mouth, how about getting the other two out now too?” Thanks, honey. Mr. Wench is no wuss. He’s had a nerve graft after nearly amputating his thumb with a circular saw. He’s had an operation on his ulnar nerve. And even HE says the dentist was a little rough. A little? Ya think?
With my root canal and crown, same dental office, they began working on my mouth before I was completely numb, then accused me of lying when I said I could feel what they were doing.
Now my mouth seems to be falling apart. I broke a tooth in May of 2010, and extreme fear of the dentist prevented me from getting it fixed. I simply ate on the other side of my mouth, which is now in serious need of repair as well, to the point that I don’t think I’ll be able to eat in a couple months. I am now forced into action, and it may be too late to save some of my molars. Each click on a dentist’s website sends a cold knot of panic through my stomach. But it’s necessary. I owe it to my children to not let a stupid fear of dentists cause my mouth to fall completely to hell and lead to me getting sick from dental infection.
Oh and my car battery died today, requiring Mr. Wench to come to my rescue and jump me.