I’ve been waiting for my appointment with the oral surgeon for most of the summer, ever since he decided that there was something he could do to deal with my recurring infections (caused by the original oral surgeries, two and three summers ago), other than more cycles of antibiotics. He’s come up with a few different explanations for the infections over time: that the screws they used for the implants way back when (three years ago) were too porous; that the original bone loss left pockets where food could get stuck; that it’s all my fault.
I was worried that this would turn out to be yet another involved, painful, expensive procedure, but instead the doctor told me it would just take an hour or so, while they took some skin from the roof of my mouth to fill in the vulnerable area, and there would be no extra cost. And, the doctor said, the pain wouldn’t be too bad, just like “a pizza burn.”
I haven’t had much pizza over the past eight months, since I’ve been on Zepbound and certain favorite foods have become unfriendly, but I vaguely remember burning the roof of my mouth a few times and not being traumatized by the experience.
Most of the anxiety came before the procedure itself, of course, because it was all unknown. I was relieved when I found out that I wouldn’t need to do all of the medical checks I went through before the two big procedures, because it would be a much shorter, less involved process, and only require twilight sleep instead of full anesthesia. But I still had two months to wait and worry before the appointment, and I’m very good at anxiety.
Finally, on the day itself, we had to take a car service to the doctor’s office, because I wouldn’t be allowed to drive home, and even though Mom would be with me for moral support, she can no longer drive. And, of course, I was about as anxious about the car service as the procedure itself, because I’m not so good with strangers, in small spaces, early in the morning, or ever. But when I got to the office, the doctor’s assistant welcomed me, and she has been the reliable, friendly, down-to-earth face of the practice all along, so that helped calm me down. A little. She brought me into one of the regular exam rooms, where the light fixtures are covered with happy clouds in a blue sky, which also helped. And then I had time to get anxious again while they set up around me. My x-rays were loaded onto the screen in the front of the room, making me look like a very scary alien, and then my charts came up, saying that I had been told to “aggressively waterpik” (which was news to me, because I was sure “assertive waterpik-ing” should have been good enough). And then I saw the words “arm restraints” pass by quickly on the screen, and I, of course, had to ask what that was about. It turned out they were going to be restraining my arms during the procedure, to prevent me from, I don’t know, punching the doctor or trying to scratch my nose.
Then they took my glasses, so I couldn’t read anymore, which was a relief, and they put on the automatic blood pressure cuff, and the pulse/ox monitor, and then the oxygen mask, which made my nostrils feel cold and sore. And then came the needle. They had to use my left arm, for choreographic reasons, even though the good vein is clearly on my right arm (I get a lot of blood tests), which meant they couldn’t find a good vein in the usual places and ended up sticking the needle into the back of my left hand, which hurt more than pretty much anything else the whole day. And then there was nothing.
I came to while they were removing the different monitors and restraints, and telling me that everything had gone well. Then they walked me to the recovery room (pretty much a closet with two places to sit) where Mom was waiting for me, and then they gave me instructions for how and when to change the gauze pads, and ice the wounded area, and let me go home.
Half of my face was numb for the rest of the day, so I was only allowed to eat pudding (yay!) and cold soup (eh, not so much), but I wasn’t especially hungry anyway. On day two, I was allowed to rinse with medicated mouthwash and as much warm salt water as I could ever want, but no brushing or aggressive waterpik-ing, yet. And I could chew again, though I still wasn’t eating anything too complicated. By the end of day two, the pain was actually worse, and the swelling had started to kick in, but not so bad that I had to fill the prescription for opiates; I was able to make do with Ibuprofen and Acetaminophen.
Day three was a rest day. It was sort of a delayed reaction to the procedure, as if I’d been the one doing the surgery rather than the one sleeping through it. The doctor called to check on me towards the end of the day and seemed pleased with my report. I’ll see him next week so he can marvel in person over what a great job he did (he likes to marvel at his work like that, unironically), and hopefully, once this short recovery period is over, I will be done with the infections, and maybe that will mean that I’ll feel better overall (since cyclical infections can’t be helping my overall health), though there are no guarantees.
The thing is, I’ve been really, really tired this summer. I’m always tired, to be honest, but it has seemed worse lately, and I don’t know if reducing the frequency of infections will make much of a difference, or if whatever underlying disorder that has been causing all of my symptoms is ever going to resolve. No further diagnostic progress has been made in the past few years, despite visits to geneticists and neurologists and neuromuscular specialists and rheumatologists, etc., and all kinds of tests and treatments along the way.
At the very least, I’d like this one procedure to have been successful, and for that to mean a somewhat less crowded year of doctor appointments ahead. Though it would be really nice to feel like a healthy person for a little while. Weird, but nice.
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Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
Fingers crossed everything will work out fine.
Thank you!
Ooh, dental work is so stressful! I’m due for a couple of rounds in November myself. Wishing you health, happiness and restored energy, Rachel 🙂
Thank you!
Fingers crossed that this procedure really does the trick, Rachel. 🙏🙏
Thank you!
My goodness! I hope everything goes well for you.
Thank you!
Hooray for hopefully being done with antibiotics! My stomach hurts just thinking about the word.
I’ve found that a bunch of my symptoms – including incredible fatigue – can be traced back to Lyme disease. Wanna join me in blaming ticks for being tired….even if they’re not responsible? 😂
Ticks are evil. I’m with you!
well Gracie and I certainly hope it’s all resolved now!
Thank you!
I’m with you, no cyclical infections has to be good for your overall health. And I’m in your corner hoping without them maybe even some of the tired feeling will lesson. Like you said, it was a success. Also like you said, those dental X-rays really do look like some kind of alien!
They are so scary!!!
Really! How do they be do that? They certainly my dint look like pictures of me!😁
Well glad to hear things went as well as could be expected, though “arm restraints” and some grafting skin from the roof of your mouth is and would be a bit disconcerting though pizza is a staple round these here parts so I understand the reference if too hot.
Apologies, but been a bit since a check in so I hope all is good with you and Mom and Z (I have some catching up to do).
Have a few dental issues to address here as well but I am hoping that If I keep putting them off they will just magically disappear like lost limbs knowing everything comes in two’s … backups.
Cheers Rachel.
Best of luck!
I cheered at twilight sleep and gasped at arm restraints. Whew! Glad it all went well, and I hope it continues to go well, Rachel. The doctor likes to marvel in person…oh, doctors. 🙄 He sounds confident, though, so that is good news.
He is confident, and it seems like he’s right to be confident, but it’s still funny to watch him marvel.
That procedure sounded kind of scary and a pizza burn is hardly painless, but I am glad it went well.
Thank you!
So much to go through! I hope this procedure brings you relief.
Thank you!
hopefully this works
Fingers crossed!
I hope this provides some relief and forward momentum in your struggle to be pain-free/feel stronger.
Thank you!
Hope this is the procedure that actually works.
Me too! Thank you!
Praying you feel better and have more energy, Rachel!
Thank you!
as I’m feeling your pain and anxiety, I’m also giggling at your humor. Fingers crossed this will work! 🤞🙏❤️
Thank you!!!
I pray you have a full a speedy recovery! Rest up.
Thank you!
You poor thing. I hope the procedure was successfully in eliminating your oral problems.
Thank you!
I hope and pray that this offers healing. 💜
Thank you!
Hoping the surgery worked, Rachel and you have no more infections and feel better over all. Hugs and prayers
Thank you!
You are a brave wee soldier Rachel! Well done. I hope it all works out long term.
Thank you!
At least they are doing something! Hope everything works out Rachel
Thank you!
Old age comes with pain 😉 I also live with constant pain due to my spinal fracture. I wish you a speedy relief from all your suffering!
Thank you!
I really hope this works out for you.
Thank you!
Prayers for you! Also, is it possible that your B-12 levels are low? When I was going through the worst of my deficiency, I was absolutely exhausted and no one could/would figure out why. Just a thought.
Thanks for thinking of me!
I hope all goes well.
Thank you!
I’ve had 77 years experience with dentists and oral surgeons and I’ve never experienced anything even close to what you describe. Glad to hear it was “successful”, but WOW.
Oy. So much fun to be unique!
I loved your humour, it had me laughing out loud. ” Being retrained so you don’t punch the doctor, ” and “aggressive versus assertive waterpicking.” I am an anxious patient and my dentist treats me with respect and care, which I am grateful for.
Thank you! I’m so glad you have a doctor you can trust!
To “be done with the infections” sounds terrific, of course–and I hope it is what happens. I appreciate your enduring the operation experience with all its impositions. I trust Tzipporah will provide good and helpful company as you recover and go on.
She’s a great model for how to rest and recover!
I’m hoping you are enjoying eating something yummy! You deserve it…
Thank you!
I hope it all works out. Sounds like quite a traumatic experience
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I’m glad your dental recovery’s going well.Give yourself from credit for being strong to face such adversity.
Thank you!
Keep your chin up and hang in there its got to get better. The main thing is to stay positive think positive all the time. Do not have negative thoughts
Doing my best. Thank you!
Rest well. I pray you heal quickly.
Thank you!