Posts Tagged ‘mono’

OUCHY

September 30, 2017

Ouch.

Damn it.

Fucking to all hell.

I have a tooth ache.

And.

Yes.

I suspect.

An infection.

Currently running a fever, experiencing some tenderness and swelling on the right side of my face.

The fever is recent.

Started about half hour, 45 minutes ago.

The swelling is also new.

But I suspect that the infection, because that’s what I think it is, started in the last day or two.

I have had some tooth pain, sharp, unexpected, piercing pain, on and off for a couple of weeks.

But nothing like this.

Nothing where I am gasping out loud when it hits.

I almost did so with a client tonight.

Thank God I only had one client.

Yesterday I was feeling pretty punked by the end of the day and I thought, though the tooth was hurting a bit, I just thought, I’m tired, it’s been a long week, I’m not feeling great, and I cancelled my 7:30p.m.

But today.

I woke up and everything was fine.

Until about 3:30p.m. maybe four p.m.

Then I started to feel weird and a couple of times on the walk up the hill on Chenery Street I had a quick, fast, stabbing, piercing, white hot siren of pain in my tooth.

When I got back to the house with my charges I took some ibuprofen and I called my dentist.

I had an appointment in early November, I think somewhere in the back of my head that I thought I could make it until then, grin and bear it so to speak, but after the walk up the hill and realizing that once again I felt exhausted and the idea of going to my friends birthday dinner and dance party made me want to cry, that something was seriously wrong.

My god.

I am fucking burning up.

Fevers are weird.

Anyway.

I called and the receptionist said they could see me on Wednesday at 2 p.m.

I took the appointment and when the mom got home I told her and when I was telling her I could feel tears, OUCH! OUCH! Oof, sorry, yikes, tooth said hello, in my eyes.

That is a huge sign for me.

I have learned that I am sick not necessarily from actually acknowledging the symptoms, but from being in enough pain that it solicits tears.

Then.

Well, then I know.

And that took me years to learn.

I got used to turning off the pain receptors, ignoring them, not letting myself feel the pain, emotional or physical, a long, long, long time ago.

It was not safe to express pain.

It was not safe to be vulnerable.

Not at all.

Never.

Never.

Never.

I got used to toughing it out without realizing I was toughing it out.

I recall being 17 years old and having gotten really sick, so sick that I was walking around the house in a nightgown hallucinating and in so much pain I could barely talk, the back of my throat was on fire and coated with white mucus and my tonsils were so big I could barely breathe.

I called my mom at work and she couldn’t come to get me, she couldn’t leave work.

I called in sick to my debate team, we had a meet that next morning.

It was the only one we lost that year and boy howdy did I never hear the freaking end of it, but hey, I was in the emergency room by that point, so whatever.

I don’t remember much of what happened.

Except that the doctor yelled, I mean, yelled, at my mom for not bringing me in sooner.

I overheard, “she could have died,” and drowned the rest of it out.

Severe tonsillitis and strep and yes, wait for it, MONO.

How the fuck I caught the kissing disease is beyond me, but I had the trifecta.

The doctors didn’t want to do a tonsillectomy because they felt I was too old, it was too risky.

They pumped me full of antibiotics and I think I slept a lot for a few days.

I was back at school Monday though, to hear all about how I had let down the team.

The funny thing.

I can remember a lot of, what to me were wonderful things, about that Saturday afternoon after we left the hospital.

My mom took us, to the Willy Street market and bought crab salad and croissants, they were a day old, but fuck, they were croissants.

And ice cream.

And she was really nice to me.

I remember the way that crab salad sandwich tasted and the bowl of ice cream, butter pecan, and falling asleep on the couch.

It was wonderful.

How crazy is that, that one of my fondest memories is of being terrifically sick.

Anyway.

I wasn’t allowed to feel sick or be sick or act sick, or sad or angry, or any emotions really.

Maybe happy was allowed.

I don’t recall.

So today I was pretty impressed with myself, even though, yes, it could be argued that I should have called in a few days ago.

Should, would, could.

Ways to beat myself up that right now I prefer to not do.

Instead.

I will celebrate the fact that I listened to someone admonish me to take care of myself and I heard my boss in my head saying, “call in the mornings, every morning and see if there are any cancellations.”

Because when I got off the phone with my best friend I felt the fever tick up a notch and I could feel an intense hotness in my cheek starting.

I called my dentist.

8:45 p.m. on a Friday.

Expecting to leave a message and hope that someone would cancel and they would call me in.

Except.

Holy shit!

Someone answered.

My dentist has an answering service!

After listening to what I said and pulling up my chart she said come in tomorrow at 9 a.m.

There’s already an appointment, but she’d make sure that the dentist would see me, it meant double booking and it means I might have to wait, but better to wait in the office and be ready to go than wait until Wednesday.

Because frankly.

I am not going to make it until Wednesday.

Super freaking grateful I know to take suggestions.

So grateful.

I won’t be going to yoga in the morning.

Nope.

I’m going to the dentist.

Wish me luck.

I am a little scared.

Just a little.

Ok.

A lot.

I am a lot scared.

And that’s ok.

I’m going anyway.

I will be taken care of.

I always am.


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