Hesitant, Hopeful

I woke up last night with every nerve in my body screaming at me. From the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes, my skin was crawling, sensitive, and I hurt. What had me awake was a single throb in my broken, rotting, impacted wisdom tooth. It took me almost two hours to go back to sleep after my nerves settled down and the fear that the tooth would start throbbing again subsided.

When I got up this morning and had time to think it through, I decided it's time to get it taken care of. It and it's brother on the other side. They both need to go and soon. After getting some information from one of my former professors about who took out her wisdom tooth in January, I called and made an appointment with her oral surgeon for a consult. I go next Wednesday morning at 8:30 a.m. and rather than being nervous about it, I'm excited to finally be going.

Rewind:

Several years ago--and by several I mean like five or more--I had the worst tooth pain I have ever had in my life. The worst pain of any kind, in fact. That wisdom tooth was throbbing and I literally thought I might die. I couldn't even bring myself to leave the house I hurt so much. Eventually, it stopped and I was able to rest, though it was sore for days. Every since then, I have done everything in my power to never, ever suffer that pain again and I haven't. But, I live in constant, unyielding fear, that it will happen again and I simply cannot deal with it. It was unforgettable and something I hope never to repeat.

So, I'm sucking up my fear of dentists and going to an oral surgeon. I've never had to go to this sort of dentist before, so I'm nervous, but not nervous enough that it's going to stop me anymore. Like I said, my excitement that I'm finally (probably) doing something about it is overriding my other faculties. Frankly, that's a good indication of exactly how much I don't want to deal with this again that I'm willing to go to an oral surgeon voluntarily.

So wish me luck, because talking about it is making me nervous.