puppy therapy

Yeah, so I had a hole drilled into my jaw this week. Yep, A HOLE WAS DRILLED INTO MY SKULL. I'm tough like that.

The backstory: I had a bone infection in my jaw about 10 months ago which they had to crack and pull a tooth to get to, scrape out the infected bone, put in a bone graft and then stitch up my minus-one-molar gums.

This week: I went in to have a screw put into my jaw where the missing molar is (aka an implant). Once that screw fuses with the bone graft, they can attach a brand new, shiny tooth to the top and Voila! No more toothless hillbilly!

When I called to make the appointment, the woman at the office assured me that the procedure wasn't very invasive and I'd be fine to go to work, carry on with my normal life, etc.

Me, "Are you sure? Cause... you will be drilling a HOLE INTO MY SKULL and then putting a screw in that hole, right?"

Lady, "Yeah, you'll be fine. Sunshine, daisies, blah, blah, blah, *more lying to me*."

SO, fast forward to Tuesday afternoon when I actually enter the office for my appointment. I'm escorted to the chair and ask the surgeon's assistant if she can explain the surgery and the recovery to me.

Different, truth-telling, lady, "Well, it'll be pretty standard. No solid foods for a few days, only soft foods for at least a week, then try not to chew on that side of your mouth for about a month. There will be some swelling and pain, but we'll give you medication."

I actually raised my hand at this point and made sure she knew who I was and what procedure I was there for since I had to be at work all week.

No mistake. I was a victim of the devious/misinformed/insert-expletive-here receptionist.

THEN the fun began. They put a mask over my eyes to keep be from freaking out at all the large, bloody tools that would be popping in and out of my mouth, numbed me up real good and got started. The actual drilling went pretty well, though trouble popped up when they put in the screw. Apparently the earlier bone graft was a bit too thin, so the screw was sticking out of the side of my jaw. Yeah, it gets better.

So they made the decision to add more bone graft and PEELED MY GUMS BACK to get the bone in there. Yeah, I'll wait while you shudder and try to get THAT image out of your head. After some boning (heh), stitching and x-rays to make sure the screw was adequately covered on all sides by bone, I was released.

For the past three days I've spent most of my time at home with an ice pack on my face, trying to find new foods to liquify and waiting until my next Vicodin dose. Good thing I've got this guy to look after me:








This is not a posed photo. Dogs really are therapeutic.

That, or Milo just likes the smell of my shampoo.