I went to bed at 12:30am this morning, watched the latest episode of Merlin and then nodded off to sleep. Not because the episode was boring – although not vintage Merlin it had some beautiful scenes, the closing shot especially – but because I was exhausted and was desperately in need of a good night’s sleep.
So imagine my frustration when, at 2am I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. Unlike usual this had nothing to do with PTSD fueled nightmares, hallucinogenic conversations or sexy dreaming but everything to do with a crippling toothache I’ve developed over the last few days. By 3am this morning the pain was so intense I seriously considered walking to the ER to get them to yank my tooth out with a pair of pliers (or whatever torture instrument they would prefer!)
However, given I didn’t want to bother anyone, I endured the pain until 9am when I roamed down the road and, for the first time in years, visited the dentist.
Note: For non-regular readers of my blog, I suffer from social anxiety disorder. Part of my social anxiety is a fear of important people, such as police, academics, psychiatrists, librarians, David Tennant and DENTISTS.
So by the time I arrived at the surgery I was wrestling with the intense physical pain I was in and the intense anxiety that had built-in my system. But however masochistic I am, I couldn’t take that pain anymore so entered, paid an extortionate sum of money and entered the dentists surgery. My knees were shaking, my palms were sweaty, there were tears in my eyes and I thought I was going to drop dead from a heart attack; by the time I removed my jacket and collapsed onto the chair every limb was shaking uncontrollably as I awaited the dreaded man in a white coat to walk into the room.
The moment he did, I couldn’t help but think of Jon Favreau.
Note: Not because he resembled the acclaimed actor/director, but because Jon Favreau once played a psychotic dentist in an episode of ace television show Monk; a show that anyone with an interest in mental health should watch purely because of the genius of Tony Shaloub.
As the anxiety coursed through my body I tentatively opened my mouth, held my breath as he began poking around and sincerely expected him to do something to ease me of this damned pain. Instead, he told me to close my mouth, replaced his instruments and wrote a prescription for some antibiotics. Apparently, there’s nothing he can do to fix the tooth until the swelling has been reduced and he’s examined an X-Ray of my mouth.
So, after toing and froing between the hospital (to get the X-Rays) and the chemist (to get the antibiotics) whilst in immense pain (I’m not exaggerating!) I made a new appointment so I can get my tooth fixed.
This appointment is next Monday; so I now have seven days to anticipate my next appointment, all of which will no doubt be spent in constant agony. And as most people know, expectation and anticipation usually end up being ten times worse than the event itself.
So, in order to try to control the pain I have dosed up on painkillers which are making me feel incredibly strange and light-headed. Especially given I had a mere 30 minutes or so sleep last night! However, I’m still tempted to rip my own tooth out with a pair of pliers. Or tie it to a slamming door. Or do something to end this bloody horrible throbbing pain!
But on the plus side, at least I faced up to my fear of dentists.
Hopefully I’ll be able to do the same next week :)