We got home Saturday night from a trip back to the East Coast to visit family and friends. We went to TN, GA, and NC. Angelica spent time with her great grandfather, and then her grandparents in Georgia. Craig and Angelica went with my inlaws to Easter services. I WAS TOO TIRED TO EVEN GO! Part of this was that the hotel pillows were truly the most horrible pillows I have ever laid my head on. I ended up sneaking out at 330 to go to Walmart and buy some at 4 am. I had already tried folding a bath towel onto my hotel pillows to no avail.
We spent time in North Carolina and Virginia visiting a friend – relaxing, talking, shopping, eating, spending time by the water.
Last night Craig and I went to the Spider-Man movie he wanted to see on a date. I bit into a Sour Patch Kid while the movie was going and I suddenly felt two hard things. My crown and piece of real tooth had just popped out of my mouth. The hole was so deep on one side that it went below my gum line. It was night and I had to find an emergency dentist to go to.
Apparently what happened is this. When the dentist put my crown on a couple of years ago, he put it on top of a cavity. The dentist last night said, you have a cavity, and at first I thought that he meant the real tooth that was around the edge and was exposed to food and air. I thought I just hadn’t brushed it well enough. In actuality he said, the cavity was in the middle of the tooth and was sealed in by the crown. He said that the dentist who put the crown in put it on top of decaying tooth. They didn’t take care of a cavity that was in there. They just put a crown on a tooth that was decaying. Finally the tooth became so decayed and weak that it couldn’t hold the crown on anymore or the growth around it. So it just came off. The dentist who put my crown on stuck it on top of a cavity and the tooth was just rotting under there day by day ever since. He said every last bit was rotted inside all the way down to the very thinnest bottom layer. It was not salvageable at all. He had to extract it. Some of it was so soft, but some of it was extremely brittle and he was jerking on and pressing on and yanking my jaw so much that I thought he might dislocate it.
When he was going at it with the drill the stench was horrendous. I know that you usually smell burning bone when they have to drill into your teeth like that. I’ve had cavities before, and a root canal, so of course this was not my first time smelling burning tooth. But there was another horrible smelling thing that made it hard to breathe. I asked what it was and they said it was the smell of the bacteria in the cavity. The rot. I could have passed out. It was horrendous.
The whole thing was hard. To start with I have a fear of the injection needles that they use to put the novocaine in. It’s been getting worse and worse over the years. I had Klonopin with me and I took some to help with the anxiety and fear. It did help, but I was still so panicked that I screamed during all the injections. When it was done and I managed to calm down and breathe I told him I was glad I at least had the Klonopin because that helped. They raised their eyebrows and said really? But it would have been worse if I hadn’t had the Klonopin. I was trying to scream quietly, since Angelica was in the waiting room with Craig at that point and I don’t want her to develop a fear of the dentist. But apparently she did hear some of the screaming even though I was way in the back. I think I’ve reached the point where when I make normal dental appointments I need to go to one of those places that will put you under. That’s going to be expensive. But I took double klonopin and I was still hyperventilating and screaming. Last night though there just wasn’t an option to wait find one of those dentists who puts people under though. The hole was bad and it had to be plugged immediately. They put a bone graft in to hold me over until I go to an oral surgeon after I do some healing.
I have to get an implant tooth. I’m really dreading this. It will happen over the next few months. And I know that for that procedure at least he said that they cannot put me out because sometimes when they drill to screw the fake tooth in they accidentally drill into the nerve that runs along the jaw, so they need you to be awake so that if they hit the nerve you can raise your hand and yell so that they don’t drill any further. But to make you at least a little less miserable they do give you Novocain and part of your mouth, which means at the very least one more time I have to have one of those needles come at me. My heart is absolutely racing at the thought. Part of it of course is the pain. I’m a sissy wimp and when they stick that needle all the way in down deep and you feel it hit, that really hurts. Plus I am considered hard to numb, so they have to stick a lot of needles and most of the time and inject a lot of the novocaine before I am numb enough for them to do what they need to do. But part of it is not the pain at all. It’s just the absolute Panic of seeing the needle there and knowing it is there and feeling a piece of metal being inserted into me like that. Part of it really isn’t the pain it’s just what’s going on. It’s the act of having a needle inserted into me. If they could get rid of the pain that would help, but I would probably still be doing some screaming and panicking just because of what’s going on. It’s an injection. Injections give me panic attacks.
Not a great night. But I am grateful to my husband for all his care. We got home late and he was out at 11:30 picking up my pain medicine and antibiotic. He made me comfortable with a warm pad. He woke me up for my medicines. When I couldn’t sleep for a long time to begin with because of the pain he just held me. I remember moaning and crying. It was a rough night. And somewhere in the middle of all that he found the time to clean my ankle brace for me because it really needed to be cleaned before I could wear it again and in the midst of pain drugs and pain and exhaustion I wasn’t up to the task of cleaning it. He was up so late that he went to bed at 3 this afternoon to prepare for his morning shift. I am trying to take the pain medicine on time so that I don’t lapse. I love Craig. I am thankful for him.
Today I went to see the surgeon in Denver for his opinion. My doctor in Colorado Springs recommended that I do that since the problem with my ankle bone is uncommon and pretty severe. This doctor reiterated that the problem was severe, and that I would never have a normal joint again, but he gave me a brace to wear and the name of a special kind of shoe to buy. The doctor said that I may have no choice but to do surgery right now, and I definitely will not be able to avoid surgery in the future. However, every surgical option I have has a very low success rate. Sometimes people even get worse. And on top of that they are not permanent. There is nothing that can be done, from taking out a piece of bone from my hip and grafting it into my ankle bone, to finding me a cadaver match, to fusing the ankle and getting rid of the joint and the movement all together, that has a high likelihood of success. Of the three, fusing the joint and getting rid of it has the highest likelihood of success. However the downside is that when you do an ankle fusion you have a good chance of getting arthritis in your foot from having to use the middle of your foot too much. Then you can end up having to get your foot fused. If that happens you have no movement anymore. That’s not good. So he said that fusing the ankle should be a last resort.
He also said that a good section of my cartilage is pretty bad. My leg bone is also damaged and deteriorated. There’s evidence that the first surgeon in Virginia drilled into my leg bone for some reason. There is appears to be a drill hole going through the bone diagonally. He didn’t say that that’s what has caused my leg bone to be damaged. He wants to see the notes from that original surgery see what exactly was going on. But he cannot fathom why that drill hole is there. I doubt it’s exactly helpful, but we will see if there was a good reason for it. But part of the leg bone is damaged, and that connects to the cartilage that’s pretty much shot, and that connects to a damaged ankle bone actually missing a chunk of itself.
The doctor was very kind and patient and he also made it clear that it was my choice. If the bone proves to be infected I don’t know what I have to do. I have to get blood work done this week to determine that. If it’s infected that might throw a wrench in things. Beyond that he said that surgery is my choice and that I could give some thought into which kind of surgery I would want to do. I highly want to avoid surgery for as long as possible, so I’m going to be giving this brace a chance for a few weeks and get those special shoes. If there was an option for surgery that had good odds for success and would last at least a decent amount of time I honestly would prefer to just have surgery and get it over with. Suffer now to have my thirties and forties be pain free, or almost pain free, and be able to walk long distances like I used to and take the stairs without worrying. But since my chances are not good with any of these surgeries I don’t want to take that plunge if I don’t have to. If the brace and special shoes can give me enough relief for at least a couple of years, I would like to hold off. I really hope I will get some relief.
In our family, we love bunnies. We have a 1 year old black bunny named Parsnip. I have loved bunnies my whole life, and I have passed that down to my daughter. One of our mutual favorite stories is the classic Peter Rabbit. These were taken as we were getting ready to read together yesterday.
I am a pretty prolific diarist. In addition to this blog, I use this colorful book right here to keep a daily log of my mood, what I am reading, my goals for the day, a prayer, and a list of what I am grateful for. I also sometimes write regular diary entries on top of my daily log. I keep a productivity journal that allows me to list my most important tasks of the day and of the week and log how much time they are taking me and what I am truly getting done. On top of that I use an app called Diaro to write brief descriptions of my day and what’s on my mind, and I attach photos. So basically I am always writing something.
I find the doing all this writing about my life and what I’m doing with it reminds me to actually try to do something with it and get stuff done. It’s also going to provide a record of family life for my daughter when she gets older. Maybe these things can be passed down for a while. And what I write on the phone app is backed up on Dropbox.
Journaling sometimes acts as a form of therapy for me. Writing can be very therapeutic. When my mood is fluctuating and I’m having a hard time, this blog and my journals give me a place to vent and sort out my thoughts. When things are going well I have a record of it to look back on when things are going poorly, or even just when I want a trip down memory lane. Writing about my creative endeavors and posting poetry and art allow me an outlet that I don’t have in my daily life for sharing creativity.
I have been an active diarist for most of my life. My uncle gave me a beautiful leather journal when I was in Middle School. It wasn’t my first Journal technically, but it was the first one that I wrote in seriously. After that I filled journals for years until something rather traumatic happened and then I didn’t write one for a long time. But since then I’ve come back full force and blogging is what I have to thank for that. That, and my love of stationery.
Angelica has been going to Vacation Bible School this week. She seems to be having fun and they do nice activities. Today she got a little picture frame to take home with Legos around the border. So far though when we talked to her it doesn’t seem like she’s actually learned anything. Maybe the messages will sink in later. But we ask her what she learned about God and she’ll say well we played. Then we’ll say, what did you learn about Jesus? And she’ll say we danced.
Craig has been home for the past few days because it is the time in his rotation where he gets a few days off. So we have been spending the mornings together running errands or just enjoying some quality time before we pick up Angelica. We love the Christian bookstore we went to. So many good books! And there are a lot of homeschool supplies too.
My diet is going well, knock on wood. I think I need to cut back a little more but I am still losing weight. I am so grateful for that.
I’m trying to pick a domain name for this site. I have done a little bit of remodeling on the page, and I would like to go ahead and buy a domain and make everything complete. Plus, if I buy hosting I get more memory. And I’m running low on memory. I’m considering several options for names, but I’m open to suggestions.
I am probably overthinking it, but this is my special little space on the web and I want it to have a good name. I’m torn between something functional, like the Veiled Housewife, and something creative/poetic like October Glow. More people will find the first one, and as I write about head covering and submission sometimes it might make sense. Plus, I like reading blogs by other stay at home women, so it might be nice to be listed as one. At the same time I really like the idea of something super creative and poetic, even if it will never show up in a search engine and some people might not understand why it has the name it has.
I am enjoying my summer. Summer in Colorado is so much better than summer on the Southeast coast. But sometimes I find myself thinking about Autumn, which is my favorite season. And sometimes after that Winter.
There is something so soul-stirring about winter. And something very intellectual about it too. Maybe it’s because you have to stay inside so much and use your imagination in your own little world. There’s nothing better to do on a nice cold day than to stay inside by the fire and read a book. Of course I’m the sort of person who always says there’s nothing better than sit and read a book. But I think winter forces you to search your velvet insides, or maybe yours is steel, and really locate your real name.
Of course winter is beautiful too. The Stark tree branches against the brooding gray sky. The frost that makes everything glitter.
And the extreme seasons, summer and winter, make us feel grateful. In the summer you become grateful for the cold. You learn to love it and to appreciate it whenever you can get it. Of course in the winter everybody complains about the cold, but then you develop an appreciation of heat.
This winter will be my first winter in Colorado, so I’ll see how I like winter here. But I suspect I will feel right at home.
I love collecting journals and writing in them and adding stickers and pictures. There are several journals in my growing collection that I really love. This one is by far the cutest and most lovable. She is part of a set. I have a big plush stuffed friend who is the mother and looks just like her. Then I have the babies, little keychain Andromedas each named Baby Stella.
I actually haven’t started writing in Andromeda yet. She is just so cute that I’ve been saving her. But I really do want to put her to good use. She longs to be a happy, well used little journal with all sorts of thoughts and plans. Andromeda is so fuzzy and snuggly and adorable. I think she’ll be a great friend.