06/15/2009

The 'new' news: My brother accompanied me to the dentist this morning. The diagnosis is an infection in the back of my mouth caused by my upper right hand wisdom tooth. The infection is causing my muscles to 'clench' and swell. The wisdom tooth needs to be extracted (actually all four do!), but they don't want to attempt the procedure until after the infection is gone. So, I'm on strong antibiotics. They should help me to feel better in the next day or two. Then, on June 30th, the dentist will remove all four wisdom teeth at his office. I'm not looking forward to the extraction, but after having taken my first dose of antibiotic and a nap, I did something remarkable.

I ate toast.

Original Post:

It's a problem when I can't eat. People regularly give me the old "I hate you" routine when it comes to talking about post-childbirth figures and what not, but being thin has its downsides. For one, if stranded on a desert island with nothing to eat, I wouldn't last long. Which brings me back to my first statement:

It's a PROBLEM when I can't EAT.

But, here I am on day 3 or 4 (it seems an eternity to me) of having a locked jaw. Which means. You may have guessed where I'm going with this. It is really difficult for me to eat. Chewing anything is excruciating, and I can only open my mouth about the width of one finger, so I'm not taking large bites either. Today's meals consisted of: Breakfast, Oatmeal with ground Flax Seed, Lunch, Ranch-Style beans (pureed) and a meal replacement shake, and Dinner, Pudding and Hot Chocolate. Hey, don't blame me. I just couldn't find anything else that sounded tasty when served in a Malt-o-Meal consistency.

Wednesday morning I have an appointment with the dentist. He assures me he can determine the source of the problem and help me fix it. He said it might be that I grind my teeth. (Grrrr.) Or, it might be that subconsciously I'm a jaw-clencher. (This seems impossible. It's not like I have any unusual anxiety issues!) Or, it might be that the wisdom teeth that I have unwisely left in place are finally speaking up in favor of their own removal. Sigh. Have I ever mentioned that I hate going to the dentist.

I shouldn't confess this. But I will.

The last time I went to the dentist was before I married Nick. At that time he told me I had one, maybe two, cavities in a back molar (or molars) that I needed to have fixed. He also told me that I needed to have my impacted wisdom teeth removed. Both of these items remained at the very bottom of my to-do list. Because I hate the dentist. And I know it's illogical. I mean, I realize that now those two 'little cavities' might require, say, root canals. And I'm not proud of that. I'm certainly not looking forward to that. I just...

hate the dentist.

But as it turns out when I had to weigh eating pureed foods for the rest of my life against a possible wisdom tooth removal, the wisdom tooth removal won. Because there is just no good way to puree a hamburger. Or pizza. Or pumpkin cream cheese muffins from Starbucks. (They'll be back in the fall, so it is absolutely necessary that I be back to normal for THAT!)

But that's really not the point.

Will you pray??