You just had to say something about my streak of good days, didn't you, Ma.
Well, that night after we talked, my mouth started to hurt terribly. I took a Vicodin that made me drowsy, but didn't touch the pain. I could sit up and watch TV at about a 3, but as soon as I would lie down the pain would crank up to an 8 and the throbbing made it impossible to stay horizontal. I would have been a cranky bitch if Chris had been keeping me up all night, but he kept rubbing my back and massaging my jaw muscles. I would get really tired and lie down only to pop right back up again. This went on all night until I set up enough pillows to keep me mostly upright. I sleep on my side, so it took some retraining before I could fall asleep in that position. By this time, of course, it was time to go to work.
Chris drove me in and I had another Vicodin with breakfast. I was groggy, but in that lighthearted exhausted state where everything was amusing. It helped to know that I was tired- to label it a rough day and just remind myself to ride it out. My first call was a very cranky patient who tried to bully me, but I was unflappable. (Thank you, Vicodin.) I was still in pain, and the nurses I work with were hovering. I was told the left side of my face was swollen, to put ice on it, and switch to ibuprofen. My coworkers were so kind. My cubicle neighbor gave me his dentist's number, promising she'd work with me on payment. Another coworker sent a request to my doctor for a referral to the VA dental clinic. We had a pot luck that day and I tried making a banana bread in the bread machine, but it looks like I need to adjust for high altitude. I wasn't going to partake because I didn't have anything to contribute, but they insisted. The monthly pot lucks are for birthdays, so I got sang to and a cute card with lots of really genuine sentiments. It was so nice.
So the ice pack was working, but I took some ibuprofen as a preventive measure. I was told I could take as much as 600 mg and I did even though I NEVER take that much. It was too far past lunch and it was overkill and the next thing I know, I'm trying not to vomit. I felt better with food for a little while, but then the nausea would return with a vengeance. It got so bad so fast that I could not even glance at my computer screen. I felt like an utter ding-dong. I would have been fine to get through the day had it not been for OD'ing on Advil. Big Dummy.
So I was encouraged to hit the walk-in dental clinic in the morning and sent home. Chris came to pick me up and we tried to find some diet ginger ale at 7-11, settled for diet 7 Up and made it two blocks before I told him to find me a nice shady spot to toss my cookies. He pulled over behind the Toys R Us and I crawled into the grass while Chris took pictures of me like a dutifully asshole boyfriend should. Nothing was posted to Facebook as far as I know.
At home I fell into bed and napped- apparently the pain reducing qualities were not all left in the grass- and by that evening I was sitting in my chair working on my puzzle. The pain was back down to a 1 and I slept well.
This morning I went down to the VA and signed in to the dental clinic only to be politely invited to take my happy ass back down to primary care for a referral. I signed in there and settled in to read The Hobbit. I got a phone call from the Women's Health nurse asking if I could come in sooner for my appointment.
"Well, funny you should ask..."
So now I get to go see the girl doctor, wheeeee. Goddammit. I get called in by the nurse for my regular doctor, and we discuss teeth. She also believes diabetes ought to get me into dental, and checks on that referral request. No dice. Not enough information and my A1C is below 8. What is my A1C, anyway? 7.9. My nurse rolls her eyes and says she'll chase him down between appointments, so I'm free to head over to Women's Health.
The girl doc takes another patient in ahead of me and explains it's because that exam will be quick.
And mine's not?
"Don't you know about the procedure you're getting today?"
"Procedure?"
Oh boy. An abnormal pap will get you an automatic colposcopy, which is not a name that truly reflects the horrifying nature of this procedure. In fact, I just referred to WebMD to get the name right, and read that they use a special microscope to LOOK at the cells. Oh sure, they LOOK at the cells, but first they have to rip said cells off your uterus. Three times. With something called punch foreceps. Big shocker: this procedure was developed by a man.
Long uncomfortable story short, it was done before I had time to stress about it, and I will spare you the gory details. The nurse asked if I had been planning on going to work afterwards, which I was, but she assured me that was a bad idea. I did have to go back to the doctor after that, and he put in the referral for dental. I went back to dental, was promised the soonest available appointment, went to pharmacy to order my pain meds, then FINALLY went home to lie down.
Sheesh, what a morning, huh? What a week, actually, and I am exhausted. But tomorrow is Friday, a payday Friday at that, and there is a referral into dental so things are looking good. But I will surely sleep hard tonight.
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