Return of the Post Hole Demon

I didn't edit this, I promise. They really look like that.

The few people that actually read this blog (my guess between zero and two) may recall a post back in July called "Halfway", that should have more appropriately been named "I Hate Post Hole Diggers". This is because I got hit in the face with a post hole digger. My fun weekend flashed before my eyes after I came to, I thought I had broken my jaw. Seriously, my first thought was, "I better not have broken my jaw, damnit, I really want to go climbing". Priorities, people. Luckily I did not break my jaw, but I did have a bloodied and bruised mouth and a generally poor attitude for the rest of the day.

Those 0-2 blog readers I mentioned may also remember my string of bad dental luck that included a major tooth extraction and subsequent dry socket just before I left for my summer season. I had an infected tooth that I chose to pull instead of getting a root canal on, mostly because I was still trying to pay off my previous root canal on another tooth.

So where does this all lead me to? Why is this post called Return of the Post Hole Demon? Well, here's a math equation:

Post Hole Digger To The Face + Tooth with Root Canal + Time = No More Tooth

 

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, my goddamn tooth FELL OUT OF MY HEAD. The tooth that I previously had a root canal on didn't have the finishing touches of a crown or whatever it is they do, so it was weakened and essentially just for show. I got through a summer in the woods with no dental issues, thank the heavens, but you can imagine my horror when I came back and felt my tooth wiggling. I felt like I was six again, except that the tooth fairy would bring me a big fat medical bill instead of a dollar under my pillow...

 

...until I realized that this tooth was directly across from where I got hit in the jaw. The impact slammed my jaw shut, jamming my teeth together, which I believed caused a small crack in my tooth that grew over time. I can't prove that the demonic digger caused this, but I also can't say that it DIDN'T. Apparently reasonable doubt holds up for worker's comp insurance, because they agreed to cover all of my dental costs.

 

A free tooth! Huzzah!

 

Sounds great, huh? Well, it is, because at least I'm not paying for my own misery, but it turns out that dental work still really sucks even if someone else is paying for it. I didn't realize how invasive this process would be. Maybe I was being naïve because I didn't have to pay a dime, my attitude was more along the lines of "do whatever the hell you want, it's not my bill". The dentist decided to save what was left of my tooth instead of pulling it, but I had to do a "crown lengthening" procedure. I figured it couldn't be that bad because they didn't make anyone come with me. How terrible could it be if I was allowed to drive myself home afterwards? Spoiler alert: still pretty fucking terrible.

 

I went in yesterday thinking that I would be leaving with a slightly sore mouth and not much else. Nope. The crown lengthening involved 5 very painful shots of Novocain, an hour in the chair listening to them drill my bone or something, lots of blood, two stitches in my gums, and a prescription for Codeine. WHAT THE HELL! It was really terrible, probably because I wasn't prepared for the reality of it.

 

Sounds good.

I've been on the couch for 24 hours with instructions to not exercise, do any heavy lifting, drive, or talk much until Saturday. Had I known that was coming I wouldn't have scheduled it for the middle of the week, especially right before two-day mandatory AmeriCorps day of service and training. Luckily I am able to skip the service project day and just attend the training this Saturday, but still. Call me crazy, but I would rather go work on a farm for the day than sit here like a potato with a swollen cheek.

 

Boo.

I think we as a nation can agree that tooth/mouth pain is the worst, especially because you can't verbalize it or else it hurts even more. You can't watch funny things because laughing or smiling hurts. The bright side is that Adam and I have really honed in on our non-verbal communication skills, and have vastly improved our sign language fingerspelling technique over the past 24 hours.

 

I never thought I would say this, but getting hit in the face with a post hole digger is potentially the best thing that could have happened, because at least now I'm not paying for this misery out of my own pocket. Thanks, demon digger!