Torture

I probably shouldn’t reveal this in public, but I think I found the torture that might push me over the edge and confess to being an accessory to John Wilkes Booth’s assassination of Lincoln, should anyone want to force me to make that claim. I might even believe I was part of it, if someone were to focus on one tiny part of my body.

No — not the lower unmentionables.

Something much less in the manner of “naughty bits”. It would be: My teeth.

Yes. My teeth.

Confession time. The lockdown for the pandemic made one thing better for me. After years of trying to convince my workplace that I really should be allowed to work from home (my job does not require a physical presence in the office), they not only stopped denying my request, but explicitly ordered me to stay home. And, against all odds, after many of us proved that we needn’t add to the daily hamster wheel called rush hour because we did our job just fine working from home, they let those of us who preferred working from home to do so after the lockdown was lifted.

What a fantastic boon! But, along with that boon came the slacking in other areas. Workout pants and shorts for clothing. Exercise (walking a block from the ramp to the office and then a building length back to my personal office overlooking the ramp). Daily deodorant use (no one else to be offended if I smelled). And… dental care…

When your routine is disrupted on that level, it is easy to forget about those white bone guys residing in your mouth. Where I would always brush my teeth before heading to work, I forgot on occasion. And then regularly.

To add to it, lockdown happened just before my scheduled dental cleaning and exam. I was near religious about my 2x annual visits, but the option to skip a session was too tempting to pass up. You see, they hired a dental hygienist that they kept scheduling me with that seemed to take personal joy in making cleaning an unbearable experience. She cleaned so aggressively that my mouth and gums would hurt for days afterwards. There was no small amount of blood on the bib either. They once put a cotton swab in my mouth to staunch the bleeding gums.

Of course, because I infrequently floss, it was entirely my fault that I hurt so much and there was so much blood. I went from liking the way my tartar-free teeth felt after cleaning to dreading each appointment. I tried rescheduling to a different hygienist once and they bumped me right back to Nurse Ratched.

Delaying my visit because of the pandemic seemed like a godsend.

And, in spite of multiple attempts to guilt me into coming back into the office, I kept finding excuses to avoid this lady. And then forgot or avoided setting something up elsewhere. Usually I forgot, or I just was not in the mood to set something up.

Fast-forward to more recent days…

Earlier this year, I started getting sensitivity on the left side of my mouth around hot and cold liquids. It was more uncomfortable than painful, and I associated it with some TMJ-like symptoms in my jaw on the same side. Combined with reading that a shoulder muscle spasm might be a contributor to TMJ (and having a chronic one on that side), I figured that was the case and made a mental note that fell off the mental fridge to make an appointment for a cleaning and exam. I did manage to get into a better routine with brushing, and even added the occasional flossing session.

Last week, the temperature sensitivity worsened. And then, it faded away only to be replaced my skull-shattering pain in the same space whenever there was any pressure at all in the area. Eating a potato chip was enough to make me bite back a scream.

At first, I thought it was nighttime clenching of teeth (I probably retain stress from the daytime, although I do mental exercises to avoid carrying it to bed). Then… I started to worry when it didn’t improve.

Severe gum disease? Cracked tooth? Several cracked teeth? Being an ex-smoker, I began to prepare myself to hear I had cancer of the mouth.

Yes… It hurt that bad. Bad enough that I scheduled an online appointment with a different dentist but I would have booked with my old one if I didn’t think I could get in Friday or today.

Even with the threat of Nurse Ratched lingering in the background… The torture queen herself.

I half-chewed softer foods on the right side of my mouth all weekend, even steel cut oats were too firm for the left side and went in this morning for an emergency exam. X-rays. Multiple x-rays. In depth HD camera photos of my gums and teeth. Poking and proding which… didn’t hurt as bad as I was steeling myself for. Temperature checks.

He sighed when he got done.

“I’m slightly puzzled at the levels of pain, and you have some minor surface decay on one tooth. But nothing that should cause the pain your saying you’ve had. One composite filling is worn down, but intact.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“What I do think,” he continued, “Is that you probably ARE clenching your jaws as you suspect and the pressure is enough to transfer through that worn composite filling to the nerve, which causes a cascade of reactions through your mouth. When it happens, it sometimes takes a nerve a while to calm down, especially if you are doing it in your sleep and reaggravating your nerve each night. And you have some gum recession from your time away for exams, and that probably adds to the pain response.”

“So… I…”

“Regular cleaning and full exam. Some gum rehab. Seriously consider getting a custom stint for nights to help with the clenching. Treat that surface cavity.”

“And the pain?”

He smiled sympathetically. “More Advil to manage your pain until things calm down.”

“So my mouth isn’t falling into ruin, although it feels like someone sets off mininukes every time I bite down?”

“It needs some TLC, that’s all. It’s in great shape considering it has been so long since someone professionally cleaned your teeth.”

But that pain. Wow. While it feels better than it has all weekend, I was ready to give myself up as the killer of Lincoln if someone could promise the pain would stop.

I am back to brushing my teeth daily. Twice a day. With flossing. Twice a day. maybe a third for good measure.

I NEVER want to be in that kind of pain ever again. Holy fu—