Remember how, last week, when I went to the dentist, I found out that I had an abscessed molar that needed to get pulled prior to the starting of the chemo?
As I drove back to the bank after said appointment, I, apparently, tempted the universe a little when I (half-jokingly) said, "Honestly. How much worse could it get?"
Oh, my friends. It could get worse.
So very much worse.
Remember that tooth that had to get pulled? Well... it did.
And that's not ALL that happened.
Good ol' Hairless Steve (that's my dentist, for those of you who've never had the pleasure) pulled the tooth, sure. (And bless him for giving me more anesthesia than I think would be necessary to pull the tooth out of an elephant... nitrous oxide, no less than 10 pain shots, all manner of numbing gel all over my gums and into my throat BEFORE he did the shots. Bless him!) Only - and here's the kicker - after all the anesthesia had taken effect, he had me close my eyes and open my mouth (okay, so maybe he didn't ask me to close my eyes, but trust me... it was necessary) and he put something in there to crack the tooth he was going to pull, and...
HE ACCIDENTALLY BROKE THE CROWN BEHIND THE TOOTH THAT NEEDED TO BE PULLED.
Yup, that happened.
So, in addition to sporting this new, gaping, hole in my mouth... I have a back molar with an exposed nerve (okay, maybe it's not actually an exposed nerve... but it sure feels like one!) that won't let me open my mouth any further than it takes to get a spoon of yogurt in there, for fear that the air will hit that back tooth and I'll want to scream. (Oh, and did I mention that the yogurt has to warm to room temperature, or the cold makes me feel like my brain is literally going to explode from all the cold that's hitting that stupid tooth? It's been real fun.)
I mean, my dentist is awesome. He was super apologetic. He took all manner of molds while I was doped up and is getting me in first thing tomorrow to re-crown my tooth. I'm real grateful that he has the time so soon after pulling #3 that he can fix #2. But still. It bugs.
And just when I started to think that things were stabilizing (I mean... tooth pulled, check... getting crown fixed in the AM, check... port no longer makes me want to scream obscenities on a regular basis, check), I got a call from MD this afternoon.
Remember how I was told that chemo would commence 2/2?
Well, uh... guess again.
It seems that my scheduler had the flu. And was out for a week. (Poor dear.) And no one picked up her work while she was out. (WHAT THE CRAP?!)
So, now all of that doctor's patients have been backlogged. (I'd laugh, but I'd have to open my mouth for that, and what I know is that air hitting that rear molar hurts like the devil. So, I'm not laughing.) To prep for chemo, I have blood work this Friday and an echocardiogram next Tuesday. I'll have a follow-up with my beloved H on Wednesday, and (fingers crossed) I'll get a hard start date at that time.
Insert eye roll here.
The upside? I'm hoping the gaping hole in my mouth will heal enough that I can start drinking soda through a straw again. Soon!
The downside. Can I plan nothing in my life, Universe?! NOTHING?!
What I want to do is sit in a corner and cry. But, what I've learned is, crying also makes me have to open my mouth far enough that air gets in there, and that hurts. ... Like the devil.
So, instead, I'll just roll my eyes and continue to roll with the punches, and think really (REALLY) hard that it's super awesome that I get at least three extra days.
Hopefully, I'll be able to cram a couple pounds of bacon and several hundred ounces of liquid refreshment in there while I wait for my next "official" start date. ... Stay tuned.