Back to St. George to make the pain go away
It’s now Friday morning and I’m about to do something I’m not too sure about. What’s worse… I’m not the only one.
You see, Cindy is my chauffeur and she absolutely, positively hates driving in any kind of city traffic. Bev has to work, and there’s no way we’ll let her take time off and not get paid.
So, bright and early… as in blinding sun in our eyes, we begin the long drive from our little desert hideaway to St George, actually clear to the other end of it. Make that a distance of some 75 miles.
Until we get to the St George cut-off, the sun’s not too bad. Now, combine the rising sun (in the southeast sky) with a two-lane highway going through a mountain pass, and you’ve got a recipe for adventure. You can encounter deer, slow moving trucks, school buses stopped along side the road… even falling rocks.
Thankfully, all we encountered was a slow driver “Blondi in a Caddie” who was being overly cautious as she braved the pass.
Our directions were simple enough, just stay on the same road until after we cross over I-15 and pass the cow pasture. When we see llamas on the left, the driveway to the dental office is on the right.
After a quick stop at Starbucks… my first in nearly 10 months, we proceed to the dental office.
Now, this isn’t your normal well-stocked very modern office, where you know your bill will be three figures just for being there, let alone having anything done. No, this is a free clinic ($5.00 donation greatly appreciated). Since I don’t have any income, I qualify (not sure that’s a claim to fame, either).
It’s 10am and time to hop into the chair. No arm rests, the head rest doesn’t adjust… oh well, just open wide for a quick x-ray. Yes, the dental tech did have a lead-filled protective vest for my other vitals.
Problem confirmed, here comes the dentist. He’s a big ol’ boy… real cowboy looking. And, he starts jabbering from the time he enters the room.
After a bit of probing (kind of lancing the abscess) he says to the tech… No sense probing any more and creating more pain. Give me two full vials of Novacaine. He then explains to her (she’s really new) that when you’re working on the mandibula (guess that’s the lower jaw) you’re better off just to numb it to the max than do one now and one again later… Thanks Doc… I think.
She’s not getting the syringe loaded correctly and he’s afraid she’ll bend the needle so he reaches across my face and loads the damn thing right over me… Good thing I’m not squeamish.
Within 5 minutes, the whole right side of my face is totally numb, including my ear, and half-way down my neck. Doc returns again… this time he’s at least added a surgical mask. He’s still jabbering, though. I don’t even try to answer. After all, my mouth is wide open, there’s the little vacuum thingy, and his fingers all in my mouth.
One probe, a request for something called a “cow horn” that has been stored in a sterile plastic baggy, a quick twist, and suddenly, the tech is stuffing a big piece of gauze in my mouth and telling me to bite down.
“All done”, she says.
Total time in the chair, less than 20 minutes… no fuss, no muss, not even any pain.
So, what was Doc jabbering about? He wants to hunt some “legal” prairie dogs. Most are protected in Utah.
Even though I couldn’t open my mouth, Cindy joins in the chat and we kill another 15 minutes talking about where he’s from… Wyoming, has two other brothers who are also dentists. He even had a dental office in one of the towns I spent my toddler years in… Wheatland.
Two days later, most of the swelling (abscess) has gone away. The antibiotic is killing whatever infection is there. My system is surviving nicely, thanks to an understanding “family”.
Mom even made meatloaf yesterday, with mashed potatoes, gravy, and well-cooked cauliflower. She’s made jello for me, as well as shared some of her tea.
Unless plans have changed… I think I have to “grow up” to real food tonight. I heard hamburgers are on the menu, and I don’t want to get left out.
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