Nine years ago, during my first visit to the dentist in about three years, the attending doc leaned back and asked me, "So, are you interested in keeping your own teeth as you get older, or is your plan for dentures?" Because it's me, I was crushed that I'd let down this dentist I'd never met before, and as a result became a serial flosser/fluoride rinser. I haven't had a cavity since.
So imagine my surprise when a routine X-ray turned up what my dentist (different guy) described as "something bad." Then he asked me if I'd ever been in a car accident or been hit hard in the mouth. This seemed to embarrass me more than him, for some reason--I generally approach people's possible traumas gingerly--but luckily he didn't take that as cause to call health and human services. He just explained that it looked like the bottom of the root of one of my front teeth was infected and that I'd need a root canal. I thought this sounded crazy--I am a serial flosser!--but the X-ray did in fact show a big, black blotch on one of my front teeth.
I will spare you all the details of my root canal, except to say while it a) wasn't painful, it was b) absolutely disgusting, and it c) required several stitches. This is what they looked like:
I've had stitches before--many times, in fact--so four stitches at once wasn't new to me. Four stitches that looked like permanent shit in my front teeth was new (black thread? in my mouth? really?), but stitches, no, I'm old hat at those.
After a day spent on the couch with HRH Prince Vicodin (take a moment, bow to him), it was time to head em up, move em out, and head back to work. So I performed my morning ablutions--wash it, dry it, moisturize it--and got ready to head out. Before I did, I decided to rinse the coffee cup I'd been sipping from. Which was totally cool until it broke off in my hand and slice my thumb open something fierce.
This is what that looked like:
So me and my four existing stitches went off to the hospital (and I'd like to take a moment here to thank my ex for just dropping me off outside the emergency room and then heading out--what a sweetheart, folks!), where we met Dr. Matt:
got all shot up:
and added five stitches:
bringing the full stitch count to a total of nine, in two different places, for unrelated incidents.
I told Dr. Matt that had to be some sort of record. He rewarded me by telling me that if I was careful, I could take my own stitches out when they were ready.
And I did:
(Full disclosure: this happened two years ago, but I just stumbled upon the pictures/video.)
2 comments:
I shivered a little bit as I read this. True fact.
I would have been already bewildered just at the thought of one or two stitches. But nine stitches! That's indeed gotta be a record.
The wonders of root canal. While it is disgusting, it shot my recurring toothache down, after a week of painful nights. I just gotta give it to dental care. Colorado Springs' dentists must have been working wonders for people like me.
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