So, with surviving Nattig, I've struck out to read Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth, which turns out to be a very beautiful collection of hymns. The book was bought as 'good' condition, but had not only highlighting and someone else's footnotes scrawled in the margin, it was dog-eared, the corners were crappy, the outside cover was bent and part of the back was ripped up.
But hey, it's cheap. And just as a reminder, PLEASE don't write in books....it's annoying to the Nth degree.
But while I was out at Nattig, I chomped down on a piece of bacon and had an abnormal crunching sound emit from my mouth, then something was scratching my cheek. Now, personally, I've had a lot of crap that has gotten caught behind my back teeth, so I thought it was a piece of bacon. I reach back in my cheek and lo, and behold - there's a huge chunk missing. I'm guessing like a quarter of my tooth.
One of the kindly Sumerians let me borrow a nail file, which I promptly stuck in my mouth to file down the sharp end. While this is not something I would suggest to anyone at all, it did keep the tooth from flaying the inside of my cheek open, and her nails were in good shape, so I really wasn't concerned. My main concern was the idea of my tooth cracking and falling apart in such a way that I would be in intense amounts of pain. Or I would die of blood poisoning. Whatever came first. So, of course, the first possible opportunity, I went to the dentist.
They gave me an evaluation. Being that I really hadn't been into a dentist in 10 years, I don't think it was too bad. 5 cavities and the broken tooth probably couldn't be saved - it would have to be pulled.
So I go in, and during the evaluation, they surmise that I will have to be tranquilized. Because I am a high anxiety person. So...I swallow two valium and they set to work. Mind you, the scraping of my teeth wasn't too bad. But really, when the little Korean, soft-spoken doctor got at me, I was nervous. It was 10, and I know for a fact the drugs were wearing off. I was going to start climbing the ceiling. But he was soft-handed, took pictures which he then showed me, and set out to work. All the time, they commented on how they were astounded that I was such an easy patient, and that I wasn't really in any pain from the initial broken tooth. I asked them if I could keep it. I got an eyebrow quirk, but they agreed. So here it is.
I about fell out when I saw it. You could see the squishy interior of the broken tooth. No wonder they were in shock. But really, I didn't feel anything. I did, however, learn more about my teeth themselves that day than I had during any trip that I'd ever been to the dentist.
I think the most disturbing part of the whole ordeal was the way he had to use the pliers in my mouth. Granted, I got like seven or nine shots inside my mouth and they had to pause once to let me calm down (I started hyperventilating at one point, so we took a five minute break), but when he actually grabbed the tooth initially, I heard and FELT a ripping noise. I can only assume that was my nerves, ripping like the roots of a tree from the floor of a forest. Then the crunching, like rocks breaking. It was a horrible time. But...it's done.
Now, everyone heals differently. I've spent the past week sucking random bits of food out of this tooth hole. Rice. Pieces of meat. It sucks I lost the tooth...but really, it could have been worse.