I had the great pleasure of having half a tooth pulled from my jaw yesterday, and I'm not being sarcastic. This marked the end of 18 months of waiting to see what was wrong. X-rays showed no decay, so my dentist's guess was: might be an imperceptible crack, best to wait and see, come back if it gets worse. I did come back a couple of times as it got worse and last week he said, yes the split is visible now.
What a split molar meant for daily life meant background pain pretty much all the time. The non-anchored half of the tooth was impinging on the nerve, and the smallest amount of food or pressure on it was enough to give you a stab. What you grasp much better only after the bloody thing is gone is that you've been accommodating the pain the whole time and telling yourself it's not that bad. I guess I now have my answer to: how do you poor people with chronic pain take it in your stride for so long?
A friend texted me on Sunday after I added my two cents about PaulfuckingHenry: He's just getting so much oxygen and I understand why, but it makes me want to scream into my pillow....
Think he'll now be getting more CO2 than H2O, but let's see.
