Dear Reader,
So it started off about 3 days ago. As the afternoon became evening, I began notice the inside of my right cheek kept getting caught between my teeth. This quickly went from irritating to painful and because I was deep within my writing zone, I couldn't be bothered to check it out in a mirror, let alone go downstairs and take a painkiller. I know, I know, my mistake. But to remedy the situation temporarily, I placed a small-but-handy piece of candied pineapple between my gum and my cheek. (Aside: my love of candied pineapples being the only thing I have in common with Professor Slughorn).
For a time it was perfect; my cheek was safe from my throbbing gums and every few minutes a got a burst of pineapply-sweetness in my mouth. (At this point you may point out dear reader that I could have easily used chewing gum, but to quote Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka "chewing gum is really gross, chewing gum I hate the most." This sums up quite well my feeling on that subject)
The pineapple pieces lasted me until dinner, by which time the inside of my mouth was completely coated in sweet stuff, to the point that it numbed all other pain. So I happily filled my bowl with rice and green-chickpeas and sat down to eat. The way my mum cooks it, usually this is one my favourite rice dishes, and one of the few foods I wouldn't mind a second helping of. But not this day.
I'd barely eaten five spoonfuls when I gave up. My entire lower jaw was tight, the right side of my face in agony, my right ear was ringing, I could hardly open my mouth wide enough to let a spoon, not to mention that the pointy, chickpeas were poking into my swollen gums. I felt like I was chewing on needles or raw pasta. Of course, my mum picked up on my sudden lack of appetite and asked me what was wrong.
I'm not ashamed to admit that at this moment I gushed, told her everything, just the way I did when I was five and had badly scrapped my knee. Its part of a mother's job description after all: to know exactly how to soothe her hurt child, no matter how old they get. I'm sure she would have sat me in her lap if we were not sitting at the dinner table and I wasn't too big for her. All that aside, she told me it was probably a wisdom tooth that was at the root of my pain.
Now, when it comes to teeth, I've always been a bit of a late bloomer. For example, while all my friend's baby teeth fell out when they were 5, 6 or 7 years old, mine didn't begin to fall out until I was 10. And the last of my baby teeth had to be yanked out of my mouth by my dentist when I was 16. So, it only made sense I was quite surprised by this revelation. Even more surprised by it, in fact, than the day I woke up to find that Mount Everest had taken up residence on my chin. (Now that was one tenant I was more than happy to get rid off.) I'd always thought I'd get my wisdom teeth when I was in my 30's.
But my mum told me that the same thing happened to her when she was 23, slightly more than a year before I was born. The conversation then diverted on to topics that included how much my brothers and I had cried as teething babies, the tooth-fairy and did my early wisdom teeth mean that I had wisdom and my older brother's lack there of. The only thing of help that came out of it was the advice that I go and see my dentist about it.
And so, like a dutiful citizen that has complete faith in the NHS, I called my local dentist the very next morning and they gave me an appointment for the day after. It felt strange sitting there in the same, unchanged waiting room after so many years. The only real difference, I'm sad to say, was that the little aquarium with the sea horses was gone. (Aside: what's with dentist having aquarium in their waiting rooms? Is it some unwritten code?) I was surrounded by children and toddlers, with their hassled mama's and pushchairs. In an oddly sentimental moment, I could not helping thinking/hoping that that would be me one day.
Anyways, my dentist was really rather nice and showed me an X-ray of my teeth. It turns out that I have one wisdom tooth coming out on either side of my lower jaw. The pain is being caused by an ulcerated infection on my right gum and cheek, which probably would have been worse had I not been brushing properly. So, like most any other dentist, she told me to start brushing twice a day and then prescribed me with an antibiotic that had my name in it: metroNIDAzole, lol.
And what was the point of all this? I hear you ask. Well, I believe that all stories have a moral, if you look hard enough. But for this one, I'm not exactly sure what it might be. Maybe it should be that 'wisdom comes at a price'. Or maybe 'gaining wisdom is not always painless, but hopefully it is worth it'. Though I keep fingers-crossed as swallow another set of antibiotics and painkillers. ;-)
I'm not usually the sort of person who complains, especially about aches and pains (sorry, unintentional rhyme there). But I had to tell someone, so I thought why not you, dear reader.
So it started off about 3 days ago. As the afternoon became evening, I began notice the inside of my right cheek kept getting caught between my teeth. This quickly went from irritating to painful and because I was deep within my writing zone, I couldn't be bothered to check it out in a mirror, let alone go downstairs and take a painkiller. I know, I know, my mistake. But to remedy the situation temporarily, I placed a small-but-handy piece of candied pineapple between my gum and my cheek. (Aside: my love of candied pineapples being the only thing I have in common with Professor Slughorn).For a time it was perfect; my cheek was safe from my throbbing gums and every few minutes a got a burst of pineapply-sweetness in my mouth. (At this point you may point out dear reader that I could have easily used chewing gum, but to quote Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka "chewing gum is really gross, chewing gum I hate the most." This sums up quite well my feeling on that subject)
I'd barely eaten five spoonfuls when I gave up. My entire lower jaw was tight, the right side of my face in agony, my right ear was ringing, I could hardly open my mouth wide enough to let a spoon, not to mention that the pointy, chickpeas were poking into my swollen gums. I felt like I was chewing on needles or raw pasta. Of course, my mum picked up on my sudden lack of appetite and asked me what was wrong.
I'm not ashamed to admit that at this moment I gushed, told her everything, just the way I did when I was five and had badly scrapped my knee. Its part of a mother's job description after all: to know exactly how to soothe her hurt child, no matter how old they get. I'm sure she would have sat me in her lap if we were not sitting at the dinner table and I wasn't too big for her. All that aside, she told me it was probably a wisdom tooth that was at the root of my pain.
Now, when it comes to teeth, I've always been a bit of a late bloomer. For example, while all my friend's baby teeth fell out when they were 5, 6 or 7 years old, mine didn't begin to fall out until I was 10. And the last of my baby teeth had to be yanked out of my mouth by my dentist when I was 16. So, it only made sense I was quite surprised by this revelation. Even more surprised by it, in fact, than the day I woke up to find that Mount Everest had taken up residence on my chin. (Now that was one tenant I was more than happy to get rid off.) I'd always thought I'd get my wisdom teeth when I was in my 30's.
And so, like a dutiful citizen that has complete faith in the NHS, I called my local dentist the very next morning and they gave me an appointment for the day after. It felt strange sitting there in the same, unchanged waiting room after so many years. The only real difference, I'm sad to say, was that the little aquarium with the sea horses was gone. (Aside: what's with dentist having aquarium in their waiting rooms? Is it some unwritten code?) I was surrounded by children and toddlers, with their hassled mama's and pushchairs. In an oddly sentimental moment, I could not helping thinking/hoping that that would be me one day.
Anyways, my dentist was really rather nice and showed me an X-ray of my teeth. It turns out that I have one wisdom tooth coming out on either side of my lower jaw. The pain is being caused by an ulcerated infection on my right gum and cheek, which probably would have been worse had I not been brushing properly. So, like most any other dentist, she told me to start brushing twice a day and then prescribed me with an antibiotic that had my name in it: metroNIDAzole, lol.
And what was the point of all this? I hear you ask. Well, I believe that all stories have a moral, if you look hard enough. But for this one, I'm not exactly sure what it might be. Maybe it should be that 'wisdom comes at a price'. Or maybe 'gaining wisdom is not always painless, but hopefully it is worth it'. Though I keep fingers-crossed as swallow another set of antibiotics and painkillers. ;-)
Nida
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