So many awesome, ambitious plans for the summer, derailed by my mouth. I keep trying to write, but the best I’ve been able to manage is reading. I’m working a billion more hours than I’d hoped to pay for the mouth. I’m in pretty much constant pain, even after the root canal. Wisdom tooth extraction scheduled for this week, but I can’t get the crown put on until I go back to Chicago–the wisdom teeth are in the way of the crown, and it takes a month for the crown to be made before they can place it. So it’s going to be another two months of this, with dental work overlapping the first weeks of school. I’m so frustrated and angry I keep bursting into tears. Thousands of dollars and so. Much. Time. My insurance only covers a few doctors in the entire state of AZ (at least I’m sort’ve covered; I shouldn’t complain…I could be uninsured), so best of all, I get to drive an hour and a half each way to my extraction appointment. And Rhin’s in town, and this was supposed to be our writing vacation for the novel, and now? Now she’s driving me to the oral surgeon, because that’s what friends do, apparently. I feel lame, and broke, and pretty well beaten down. Nevermind that school starts in three weeks, and I somehow need to finish a book (the impossible Giza) and a magazine for my editing job before I leave town. And revise my syllabus for composition. And read for the lit class I’m TAing. And my boyfriend is moving with me, and I was all set up to have money and emotional support saved up so I could be of some help to him, and…yeah. Life got in the way.
This summer, I had a tooth filled. The long story involves my childhood dentist versus my new dentist (the one covered by my insurance), an allergic reaction causing my face to swell up, new dentist threatening to pull my tooth entirely (“a wisdom tooth might grow in; you could get lucky”), and over a month now of serious nerve pain. I’m having dreams of pulling out all my teeth, then leaping around joyfully as a gummy twenty-something. My mouth aches so badly.
It also feels like a social class slide, moving from los padres’ decent insurance to my own (worse) AZ insurance, and now on to the (epically bad) limited insurance my current university provides. I’m grateful to have anything at this point, but I do wish I could afford real health care, something better than the dental equivalent of a dude with a rusty pair of pliers. It’s looking like, after already spending a small fortune on the original filling, even under insurance, I’m going to need to go back and spend a much larger fortune digging out the filling and replacing it with a root canal so that the exposed nerve ending giving me hell with STFU. And, insult to injury, I’ll probably end up at the same awful dentist who effed up the tooth in the first place.
Whine, whine, owwwww.