June 10, 2026
Did you miss me?
It’s funny the way we human
beings get toddling along our life’s path, confident in our sense of ourselves,
and where we’re headed. Just be-bopping along to the rhythm of our own
drummers. Then, one day, when you least expect it…wham!
Yup, I had a wham.
When last we met, which was my
essay of May 27th, I announced my carpal tunnel surgery scheduled
for the 3rd of June. What I
had failed to mention is what had been happening in the week or so prior to
that last essay. That was a failure on my part. I’ve promised, since the
beginning of Wednesday’s Words, to be fully transparent with you, and in the
last month I haven’t been. I sincerely apologize. I’m going to fix that now.
I suffer from dentophobia. It
stems back to my childhood and a monster masquerading as a dentist to whom I
was subjected. That was in the bad old days before the ubiquitous “they”
realized that children were not just miniature adults. Lack of adequate
freezing and just generally lack of adequate care, and I became a quivering
gelatinous mess when it came time to go to the dentist. This became a
deep-seated phobia which I could not overcome on my own. It took a lot of
maturing on my part, and sincere prayers to begin to do that.
I began not going to the
dentist regularly, which wasn’t good, either. To my credit, my children never
knew I was this way and so they thought nothing of going to the dentist through
their childhood.
So here I am in my 70s. I wear
a top denture, gained when I needed my upper teeth removed in my early 40s
after root canal procedures resulted with teeth breaking. Then, over time and
one by one, I lost some of my lower teeth. I knew I was going to have to face
getting the rest of them pulled and perhaps getting a bottom denture. I lost
one in 2023 (with a new dentist but one who had won my trust) and then another
one the first week of April this year, same dentist.
I had made a plan to get the
rest taken care of and was working on my mental preparations to do just that.
I’d been thinking September, after my carpal tunnel surgery.
I awoke on Tuesday, May 19th
with the most stunning, electric, and horrific pain in my mouth that I had ever
experienced. No medications touched it. Sensodyne rapid relief tooth paste took
the slightest edge off for a few minutes. So early the next day—Wednesday the
20th—I called and got an emergency appointment to have another tooth
extracted just after noon hour.
When I arrived, the dentist I
trusted said he couldn’t tell for certain which of the three teeth on the left
was causing the pain, as none of them were very good. So, with my agreement, he
took all three.
The pain eased, of course,
with the freezing. And then it was back the next day, Thursday. The Dentist had
told me that if pain persisted to Monday, to call him. It did and I did.
He saw me Monday and told me I
had a dry socket! He packed in something that was supposed to take that pain
away and last for 24 to 48 hours. Whatever he gave me lasted exactly four
hours.
It has improved slowly since
then. By yesterday the pain was down to intermittent twinges. But for almost a
week it was nearly unbearable. I have faith that the worst is over.
And now I have a wounded paw,
as I did have my carpal tunnel surgery on June 3rd , painful mouth
and all. The hand hurt only the first day after surgery. Now, there’s no real
pain in my hand at all. But I can’t yet use it for more than the simplest of
tasks. For example, scratching my nose or assisting my other hand in putting on
my glasses.
My husband noted that I have
had one hell of a rough few weeks, and he’s right. Since my hand surgery I have
been doing little more than resting. Tomorrow, I go back to the surgeon for my
follow-up appointment.
Since it’s my right (dominant)
hand that is in recovery, David helped me make temporary changes to the living
room seating. We have a sofa with a recliner on either end. He has a table on his
left, and I have one on my right. Between us lays a simple cushion that the
dogs usually use. But the seat back of that middle cushion does fold down, to
provide a flat surface on my left side with a couple of cup holders which I
have been using, because I cannot yet pick up my water or my coffee cup with my
right hand.
The dogs now use his (un-extended)
recliner, and he has moved temporarily to the only other chair in the room, an
electric powered chair that not only reclines, but will stand you up, too, if
need be.
Daughter has been doing all cooking
since the pain exploded, and husband has been taking good care of me, and all
that is wonderful, but strange. I’m not fond of doing nothing. However, after
everything I’ve experienced over the last almost-month, I’m allowing myself
this do-nothing period, because I worry about doing something stupid and
complicating my recovery.
There is one good thing—well,
other than the excellent care with which my family has been treating me, and
it’s this: I’m beginning to suspect that the reason that I didn’t particularly
remember my last round of carpal tunnel surgery (on both hands, a couple weeks
apart). It was probably too stressful and traumatic for me to remember.
I’m on the mend. And yes, I am
very much aware how fortunate I am, that really all I’ve suffered is
pain and inconvenience—though that tooth pain was excruciating. At my age, with
that and my arthritis—well that’s not really much at all. So many others have
it far worse.
Certainly, what I’ve been
dealing with is nowhere near enough to cause me to stop being grateful for my
blessings, every single moment of every single day.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
