Yesterday I had a toothache, so I went to the dentist.
He said the tooth in question is decayed beyond repair. This happened quickly due to the same reason that four other teeth needed to be removed: Immune suppression during chemotherapy and from prednisone use now.
I am not a candidate for implants. "How am I going to chew?" I asked my dentist. "You'll be able to chew a steak, as long as it's a good one," he said.
He said it should come out as soon as possible, but the first available slot it Sept. 30.
I was talking to a friend about this and I asked her if we'll still be friends when I am toothless and homeless. OK, so I'm prone to exaggeration.
I am also wondering if a certain friend is slinking down in his chair when he reads this. When he took me the last time, I had taken two Ativan as instructed. Afterwards, my mouth stuffed with cotton, I insisted that we go out for coffee and visit his mother. He got me home only be promising to get me coffee when we got there. It was a moot point, because I conked out.
Removal of the other two teeth was an adventure also. I got those pulled in Boston at Brigham and Women's because my platelets were too low for comfort and I needed to first get a transfusion at Dana-Farber. I always take Benadryl with platelets to head off an allergic reaction. On top of that, I took two Ativan. I was so loopy that my sister practically had to drag me over to the Brigham.
During the extraction, I could barely keep my mouth open. The surgeon said I was a hoot.
Luckily, my platelets are over 100 now.
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