Who said flossing won’t kill you
So, the last few weeks of my life have been somewhat of a whirlwind. Well, that’s not actually true. They’ve been a whirlwind in the sense that I’ve been turned and spun out and been dealing with things that I really didn’t expect to. They’ve been chaotic, frightening, revealing, depressing, painful, and at times, very very lonely. I’ve learned much about my life, my illness, my family, my friends, and about how much physical pain and mental anguish I can handle at once. I’m hoping that when this is all over, I will emerge on the other side a healthier, happier, and stronger person. At this point, these things are far from certain.
The story begins on July 8th. Actually, no. The story begins the evening of July 7th. I am at home, watching the Yankees game at night. It gets late and being the lazy ass that I am, I decided not to floss. I brushed my teeth, washed my mouth, and decided that flossing just wasn’t going to happen tonight. This is not that uncommon, I go to sleep not really thinking about it.
I wake up the next day early for some reason. What’s stranger is that I actually decided to get out of bed instead of wasting the extra time laying there. Instead, I actually get up, shower, brush, and get dressed. I have about 10 minutes of extra time. Now obviously, I have absolutely NO intention of leaving and getting to work early, so I decide instead that I floss. Why not, right? I’m flossing and admiring the gross food particles discovered between my teeth. Yes, I’m disgusting. Well, while digging for treasure between my teeth, I accidentally cut my gum and it starts bleeding. This is not completely uncommon, I’m an uncoordinated dufus and the fact that I’ve survived this long surprises almost everyone I knowl. I thought nothing of it and continued on to work. I figure it will stop bleeding in a few minutes.
So those few minutes, they weren’t a few minutes. My gums bled ALL day. I didn’t know what to think. The bleeding wasn’t exactly gushing, but it also wasn’t a small amount of blood. It coats my teeth, coagulates into this disgusting gooey red-snot like monstrosity, and every few hours, I would go and spit it out and let the process start all over again. Pretty disgusting, right? I get home that night and I’m genuinely worried. I figure there is something SERIOUSLY wrong with my teeth, but I have absolutely no idea how to deal with it.
My first line of defense is to call Anita. She’s obviously way smarter than I am and can handle these sorts of situations much better that I’d ever be able to. I tell her what’s going on and I guess she didn’t realize how severe the situation was as she tells me to rinse my mouth out with warm salt water and it will be fine. I had already tried this earlier with no success, but maybe Anita telling me to do it would work out better right? Wrong. That night was terrible. I bled all over my bed sheets. The pillow, the sheets. I woke up in the middle of the night and vomited because of all the blood I swallowed. An absolutely miserable experience. Terrible. I certainly didn’t get much sleep that night.
I wake up the next morning and I’m officially in full panic mode. My gums are still bleeding; still at the same rate. My worst fear is that this was some sort of advanced stage of gum disease or gingivitis. Ever since I met Anita, I have been taking very good care of my teeth, but I thought that maybe previous years of somewhat lackluster oral hygiene have caught up to me. The worst part? I have an appointment with the dentist just a few days away. Do I wait? Is there something more wrong? At this point, I am absolutely and completely freaking out (to myself).
I muster the courage togo one more day without really doing anything about it. I don’t want to miss any work, especially with me being on call during the weekend. So, I go to bed with the idea that I’ll be fine and this will pass. Or at least, that’s what I hoped. Of course not. Instead, I spend the night having the exact same problems. Waking up, vomiting, bleeding on EVERYTHING. I wake up absolutely scared and exhausted. I get to work, and by this time, everyone knows what’s going on. Brian (my boss) asks me if I was going to see a doctor about it. I am absolutely convinced that my issue is caused by a severe case of gingivitis, but that’s not the kind of news I want to declare at work. I figure I’ll wait for my dentist’s appointment and see what the damage is. I follow the same procedures as yesterday and make it through the day... Barely. I feel a small sense of relief when I get home because Anita would be coming over in a few hours and she will make everything better, right? Right.
So Anita came over around 8:30. At the time, I was in the bathroom as she entered the room. As soon as her eyes focused on the scene in front of here, she shrieked as if she had just stumbled upon a murder scene. She screamed and shrieked absolutely flabbergasted by what she saw in front of her. She groans at the sight of blood everywhere. Absolutely coating the bathroom. The part where I get in the most trouble begins when she notices very little blood on my pillow and asks me how that happened. Scared of what may happen to me, I softly tell her to prepare herself and to flip the pillow over. “OH MY GOD, PAULASH! You bled all over your pillow and then just flipped it over and went back to sleep? That’s disgusting. You are disgusting. I can’t believe you.” She then just stares at me as if to say, “How the Hell did I end up falling in love with you?” This is a question that may never have an answer. This is probably a good thing.
She tells me that we need to go to the hospital. I am obviously against this idea. I hate the hospital. I’ve always hated hospitals. I spend too much time in them to like them. Especially the ER. I try to negotiate. I want to go tomorrow morning so that we can finish watching the Yankees game. Nope. We settle on calling Dr. Parikh’s emergency line. Whatever he tells me to do, I would do. So, I call and leave a message with his answering service. Ten minutes later, Dr. Parikh calls me; I tell him the situation and I actually think I heard him gasp in horror in the middle. As soon as I’m done, he proceeds to scold me as if I’m a little child. Apparently, “knowing my condition” the fact that I allowed myself to bleed for two days without seeking medical attention was beyond stupid and why even bother with all these doctors trying to figure out what’s wrong with me if I’m going to do something like this. I just listened and stuttered like a whimpering child.
So that is it. The decision is made. I still tried to haggle with Anita for the Yankees game, but she was having none of it. I reluctantly get into the car and the two of us start to make our way to the ER. In my mind, I’m thinking that this will be an affair of a few hours and I’ll be home the next day and be ready for work on Monday. Little did I know the journey I was in for. Little did I know how unprepared I was for it…
To be continued…
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