Tuesday morning. I half limped, half crawled up to the pharmacy counter, looking like a smart-casual crack whore - veins visually pulsing, cold sweat dribbling from my ears.
“Painkillers” I said. “Please give me. Please give me the strongest painkillers you can give me over the counter. Please.”
“What for?” She said - the lady behind the counter. It’s time like this I wish that toothache would bleed, or glow or throb - it’s impossible to get across, as an ailment, without talking about it, which is the thing that hurts the most.
“Toothache. For toothache. I have toothache, and I can’t get in to see the dentist for several more days”
That was true. It was also true, of course, that I wouldn’t get to see the dentist until I actually summoned up the courage to phone the dentist. And, in fact, until I found a dentist in the first place. But I neglected to mention that. She might have called me a wuss and witheld her sweet sweet painkillers. I couldn’t risk it.
“I have very bad toothache. Ow” I said, and held my face to demonstrate the toothache that I had. “The stronger the better, really”, I soundtracked to her search through the behind-counter cartons.
“Hm. For toothache…” She said, while my jaw quietly imploded. “Painkillers for toothache…”
“Yes. And for under £4.60,” I said “…I’ve only got £4.60 on me. Sorry.”
I watched and winced as she turned, smoothly, from the strong looking ‘quite-possibly-heroin‘ boxes, and started poking through the shelves of pastel coloured ‘quite-possibly-Calpol‘ boxes.
“Here we are!” She said, not knowing that at that moment the counter stopped me from kissing her, gratitudifully. “Oh. No. Hang on. These make you drowsy. You don’t want…”
“YES.” I nodded, attempting to communicate sleeplessness and pain through the power of my nod - which worked, inasmuch as it hurt and made me feel woozy again (I don’t know if she could tell) “YES, those are FINE. Lovely! How many boxes have you got?! I’ll have all of them. Ha ha. Hahahaha!”
Unconvincingly I laughed. In a failing attempt not to sound like the ache-addled capsule-sucking ‘profen-whore I really am, I laughed. I realised, just too late, that it sounded like I may have been driven to the edge of self-slaughter by toothache.
“Not really! Only one! I’ve only got £4.60! Ha ha ha!”
She looked at me, trying to decide between a quick sale and a slow commital process.
“Hahaha?”
She looked at me, pharmicistically, still holding the magic box just slightly too far over the counter for me to grab and run away and eat all at once and…
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“I’m allergic to rabbits” - My general response.
“Ha ha!” She said.
“Ha ha!” I… “No, not allergic to anything else, those will be lovely - thanks, how much?”
“Are you taking any other medication?”
“I’m not taking ANY medication. Ow.”
“Have you taken these before?”
“No, but I’m sure they’re lovely”
By this point I was staring at the box in her hand with a slithering, ill-controlled desire, like an overweight Gollum in winter, all eyes and duffel coat.
“Ok, well, that’ll be £3.25, please”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Well here you are”
“Thank you”
“Here’s your change”
“Thank you”
“Have a nice day, feel better”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
And I left the shop, clutching hard my paper bag containing something called propain. ‘Propain’s flammable, I think’, I thought. ‘At least if it all gets too much I can set myself alight’.
It did get worse, but the fire didn’t catch. I’ve caught a dentist, though.
Abcess, he says. X-rays. Buckle amalgam. Root canal. Fillings.
You may see a paypal button turning up on this site in the not too distant future, just to warn you.
Ow ow ow ow, I say. Ow ow ow. Ow ow.
To be continued…
Although hopefully not for much longer, because it really hurts
I’m sorry for your toothly woes, Anna. Somebody once told me that biting on the affected tooth with a clove helps a little, and there was something else too. Oh yes, regular swilling with neat whisky (blend or malt) followed by a thorough swallowing of the whisky. Lots and lots of that helps lots and lots, I think.
Comment by Sami, Problem-Child-Bride — 16 March, 2006 12:51 am
In America, where I inexpertly, expatly live (just can’t get that colonial guffaw and “splendid chaps, the natives” bit down yet, although I’m practicing on shopkeepers) it is alarmingly easy to get your hands on oxycontin or the other big guns of the pain-killing world. A significant part of the population is addicted to them - even some of the conservative radio talk-show hosts. I’ve had loads of ‘em along the line, prescribed for conditions i didn’t really think warranted them, and so I never really took them. Nowadays I just use ‘em alongside the mini-bar to put me to sleep in a hotel as soon as I land back in Britain. you can sleep for a day, make a big dent in the jet-lag and be ready and refreshed to meet your loved ones, if they don’t mind you forgetting who you are and having dilated pupils floating around in eyeballs raspberry ripple ice-cream eyeballs.
If you want I can irresponsibly send you some. (Does that count as drug-pushing? Nope, sorry you’re not getting any any more - changed me mind) If there are any policemen listening - I joke, I jape, I flit, I fly, and feel now I had better go.
Comment by Sami, Problem-Child-Bride — 16 March, 2006 12:57 am
Aww poor Anna!
Hope you feel better soon!
I’m afraid i haven’t got any great drug solutions, if i’m in pain i generally just get drunk & pass out. Sorry for the lack of advice!
Comment by Mad Pixie — 16 March, 2006 2:12 am
If it all gets too expensive just join the army - we get free dental.
Comment by US — 16 March, 2006 6:50 am
Poor Anna. My friend had a similar problem. She had bitten down on an apple when the nerve was exposed and said the pain was so intense it was like a jagged white explosion in her mind, shaped “like a cauliflower”. Hope the cauliflower of pain stays far from you.
Comment by annie — 16 March, 2006 7:20 am
I had an abcess. It stopped me from being afraid of the dentist. By the time I got my appointment I’d been in so much pain that root canal treatment actually felt like a blessing.
Also, it didn’t hurt. So don’t worry.
Comment by Katy Newton — 16 March, 2006 7:35 am
Oh don’t worry, Katy, all, I have had this before…
God I hate my bloody teeth.
Still, I’m quite pleased, because at least it’s something to write about. How pathetic is THAT?
Comment by anna — 16 March, 2006 7:39 am
Or get thrown in prison… Prisoners get free dental care, too.
Comment by sjhoward — 16 March, 2006 7:54 am
I hope you feel better soon.
I managed to chip my tooth when I was little after accidentally running into another kid during a game of tag. Eating or drinking anything became a tingly circus of pain in my mouth. But still… I think the other kid ended up with a bit of my tooth embedded in his head.
Comment by Invader Stu — 16 March, 2006 9:35 am
One of my teeth disintegrated a while back - a jagged hole literally just appeared out of nowhere.
It took several days to get to see the dentist - and that was the speedy route made possible by going private, mind you.
On the plus side, it didn’t actually hurt in the slightest. I’m sure that will be a great comfort to you :o)
Comment by Dominic — 16 March, 2006 9:42 am
See now I’m blushing because it took me ages to figure out what “I nee woot canaaw sujuwee” *means*. I was even going to submit a deep and layered “but what does it mean?” comment but then it dawned on me and now ah fink it’s mah saffefrikuhn eksint. Good luck and stuff, rather you than me as they say.
Comment by Hennie — 16 March, 2006 10:01 am
Take loads of ibuprofen, then paracetomol. then head down to casulty at about three in the morning. Cry during triage (this is even more effective if you are a boy). Sob about not having had any sleep in the last 72 hours. Try and work up a temperature.
I tried this approach and they gave me oral-morphine. It’s lovely. No more toothy-hurty and you float away on a big fluffy cloud for a few hours.
Comment by John Mac — 16 March, 2006 10:10 am
root canal? they hurt a lot!
Comment by marycub — 16 March, 2006 10:22 am
If ur teeth are really that bad, you could try what my dad had…
Total bridgework of all his teeth. He had all his teeth filed down to point bits and all the nerves were taken out of his gums, then false ones were wired onto his original but stumpy teeth. Apparently it was the most painful thing in his whole life. And its a happy ending too because after 20 years they’re starting to fall out so he’s now having implants. All his stumpy teeth have been taken out and he’s had metal bits in his jaw i think, it all gets a bit hazy here because he was explaining it to me with no teeth. Then in a couple of months when the implants have healed he has teeth screwed into his jaw.
The moral of the story always brush your teeth when you’re a kid. My dad didn’t, and he paid with pain, lots and lots of it! On the plus side he doesn’t have any abcesses :D
Comment by marycub — 16 March, 2006 10:31 am
I heard about some guy on the radio who did his own dental work and then stole drugs to numb the pain.
The judge said “you shouldn’t do your own dental work” and fined him.
Comment by Adrian — 16 March, 2006 10:47 am
He’s a Chinese dentist, right?
You’re seeing him again this afternoon, at tooth hurty?
Comment by Mr.D. — 16 March, 2006 12:24 pm
Mary, thanks for coming, but please shut up, sweetie, you’re not helping at all.
;O)
Comment by anna — 16 March, 2006 1:13 pm
I just love your blog, I’ve been reading for some time. But It’s not just your posts, which are great, the comments are little gems too. I hope you getting sorted out soon.
Comment by St Jude — 16 March, 2006 2:29 pm
Yes, they’re a good bunch, aren’t they, St Jude. I have honed them well.
You have to be auditoned as a crack commenter to start commenting in here, you see…
Congratulations, you’re in.
Comment by anna — 16 March, 2006 2:40 pm
An ex-boss of mine in Mexico had “mouth reconstruction surgery”.
He ended up with rows of acrylic teeth which glowed in the dark.
Which was quite useful during the power cuts…
…and for finding his way to the toilet in the dark…
…AND they didn’t stain with red wine.
Another glass of Bojollis, Obadiah?
Comment by TC — 16 March, 2006 2:45 pm
My uncle used to superglue his chipped front tooth back on when it fell off, monthly, if you can believe it.
Comment by Sami, Problem-Child-Bride — 16 March, 2006 3:24 pm
Painkillers are great!
Been living on little pink ones for the last week after someone opened a car door in front of me and knocked me off my bike. Bitch didn’t stop, and I have a lovely sprained shoulder and muscle bruising. Joy.
However, I’d rather have a sprained shoulder than toothache - walk around with a sling and you get masses of sympathy. Say you’ve got toothache and people regail you with their favourite ‘a funny / painful thing happened last time I went to the dentist’ stories. Not what you need to hear.
Hope painkillers work and that the dentist is nice to you..
Comment by toria — 16 March, 2006 3:37 pm
maybe this will help fight the pain
http://web.media.mit.edu/~monster/dobson_blendie_small.mov
Comment by andre — 16 March, 2006 4:47 pm
I just created a blog… and was kind of wondering what kind of places I can send tracback to and ping? Really need help since I never have done this blogthingy… Please help?
Emma (by the way, im norwegian, and my english is a little rusty)
Comment by Emma — 16 March, 2006 6:12 pm
Is there something going around? Raf is blogging about his teeth too… Too many sweets over Christmas finally taking their toll?
Comment by Marie — 16 March, 2006 6:57 pm
that would be beaujolais by the way
Comment by marycub — 16 March, 2006 7:25 pm
my teeth hurt, but thats because i’ve just eaten a small baby’s weight in icing :/
would now be a good time to mention that my teeth are perfect in everyway? When i go to the dentist for my yearly check up i hop on the chair, the dentist takes one look in my mouth and says “perfect teeth, see you next year!”.
unfortunately that’s about all that is perfect in my life :D
Comment by marycub — 16 March, 2006 7:29 pm
Introduced to your blog via weird Google search at work earlier this week. A work colleague and I read bits aloud until we were near hysterical with laughter. I spent the rest of the day looking crop [sorry - 7 yr old son appeared behind me and subbed that word out, had to pretend I'd typed it by accident]. No mascara, thin spiky lashes and blotchy eyes - lovely.
Have been visiting LittleRedBoat in odd spare moments at home and thrilled to discover there’s this enormous back catalogue of you, others’ comments and links. It’s like suddenly discovering a great new author and finding out they’ve written loads. May have to evict 12 year old son from his computer-blog-hogging room so I can catch up…
Just wanted to say thanks and seriously hope your tooth gets better. Done childbirth and broken bones and still think bad toothache is the pits. I think this may be because toothnerves are v. close to brain receptor things. Maybe visualising teeth on end of toes might help.
Love
Anna From The Styx
Comment by Anna from the Styx — 16 March, 2006 8:06 pm
Thank you Styx-Anna. You are lovely. You can stay.
Comment by anna — 16 March, 2006 8:23 pm
Well, you’ve got a dentist now, but for the record John Mac’s tip about late-night visits to A&E is a good ‘un. I work with the homeless (or, to use the delightful euphemism, the Street Population), who unsurprisingly usually aren’t registered with a dentist. When one of them gets their mouths bashed up, we advise not visiting A&E during the day as they’ll tell you to go to a dentist regardless just to get rid of you. At night, they concede the dentists are closed, so will dish out drugs or even treatment.
Comment by Huw — 16 March, 2006 9:33 pm
Ha you think you’ve got problems. I just spent £145 on shoes for my wedding, only to bring them home and discover that they look ridiculous with my suit, and I will have to take them back and select another pair from the ones I rejected, because Poste doesn’t do refunds. Only exchange.
I’m sorry, how insensitive of me - you must be in agony. Give me a minute to put my sympathy cap on… no… sorry, nothing. I tried.
Comment by Damian — 16 March, 2006 10:22 pm
Those times when you really wish you could get across the same message by smiling and being polite as by swearing loudly and extremely rudely. If you’d been nasty she’d have probably given you the drugs in about a tenth of the time. All credit to you in such pain that you didn’t give in to the temptation!
Comment by The B — 16 March, 2006 10:31 pm
Anna - some information that might help a little, vouchsafed to me by a doctor when I had an abcess last year. Firstly, Ibuprofen is the best painkiller for toothache. But here’s the good bit. You can actually take twice as much as it says on the box. The reason for this is that if they put the actual amount it was safe to take on the box, they know that some people would take more. So they tell you its only safe to take half as much as it’s actually safe to take, so that when idiots insist on taking twice the safe amount, they’re actually still within the safe amount. If you get my meaning.
And here’s the other good bit. While they tell you not to take any other drugs at the same time, it is actually safe to take Ibuprofen and Paracetamol together, because the two drugs work in completely different ways.
So with all that working for you, you should be able to make yourself comfortably numb. (For the time being at least).
Comment by Alan — 16 March, 2006 11:25 pm
Good god! I hate those abcesses. I’ve had two of them. The dentist is your friend hun he will make it all ok.. with his happy little syringe. Hope it resolves quickly. I vote for the whiskey solution stated by the helpful person above..
I remember it’s awful.. *wince*
Comment by snott — 17 March, 2006 1:53 am
Codeine. Anything with codeine. That’s all I can say. I woke with a toothache requiring a root canal in the middle of the night and only had Paracetamol. Fortunately I got into a dentist the next day - can’t imagine having to wait longer as pain was unbelieveable as you describe.
I lay in bed whimpering trying to work out if my liver exploding (due to taking more than recommended dose of Paracetamol - don’t try this at home folks as causes irreversible liver damage and usually fatal) would be more painful than toothache!
Comment by miss tickle — 17 March, 2006 7:33 am
I had a similar toothachey experience one horrible, horrible night last year. I was told that if you put ice on your HAND, it will actually make your TOOTH feel better. This actually turned out to be true.
My only advice is if, by chance, you don’t have any ice and you should happen to decide to use chicken breasts instead, it is NOT a good idea to lose one of those chicken breasts in the middle of the night and then forget about it in the morning and maybe for another two days afterward until things start to smell awfully bad.
I mean, just in case you were going to do that, I probably wouldn’t.
Comment by Jill — 17 March, 2006 8:40 am
First a small admission, I have been reading your blog for a while, and while I try not to sound too gushy, I have to tell you that some of your posts have me sliding off my chair from going floppy from laughing too much.
Now, on to business… I sent your tale of tooth woe to my mother yesterday as she is suffering from pretty much the same thing. She called last night to thank me for the empathy by proxy, and to squeak about being Gollom #II. At least that what I think she was saying as she was just starting to get the feeling back in her lip from the injections the dentist had given her in the morning.
Feel better soon! And well done you! on a fabulous blog.
Comment by Sam — 17 March, 2006 8:55 am
Ha! Hahahaha!
Jill wins.
(Although Toria, amen to that - it’s not often you hear me say that, is it…)
And Sam, Sam wins too. Welcome Sam, hello, please stay.
For all of you with concern - don’t worry, I gave in and made an appointment with a private dentist after 24 hours of the pain not going away. I made an appointment to see him the very next morning. I woke up, and the pain had COMPLETELY disappeared.
Reader, I considered not going, I really did. But I went, because I am 28 and apparently you’re supposed to be a grown-up at that age.
So I went. And he was nice, if a bit, you know, dentist.
And he took a whole bunch of x-rays. And he told me what he was going to do. And it’s going to ruin me.
And then he gave me some antibiotics, and told me the pain was unlikely to come back, and then he’d see me next wednesday. Well, the first bit was a lie. But I forgive him, because he might take it away completely next week.
Although I’m having to pay him stupid amounts of money to do that. Oh I don’t know, it’s complex.
Anyway.
Thanks all. You rock and other such droll Americanisms.
Comment by anna — 17 March, 2006 8:57 am
Anna, you’re good, you really are, how can anyone suffer from toothache yet manage to be this funny I don’t know. You’re good! I feel your pain. eek, I didn’t say that.
Hope you heal real quick.
Comment by guyana-gyal — 17 March, 2006 10:10 am
Ow.
Owowowowowow.
I feel your pain.
Comment by Rob — 17 March, 2006 1:54 pm
Pro-pain? Real encouraging. I can see why you wanted to use *that*!
“No, but I’m sure they’re lovely” - heeheehee
Keep up the good work, and here’s hoping you can look forward to a perfect, painless, tooth-filled future.
Comment by Anna F — 17 March, 2006 3:42 pm
Sorry for being so self obsessed yesterday. I can vouch for the Ibuprophen and Paracetemol coctail - I used it when I had shingles a few years ago. (Imagine a toothache, running in a ring right around your body - it used to kill people by making it too painful to breathe.) The secret to making the coctail work is to stagger the pills. Both can be taken every 4 hours, but tend to wear off, so take the Ibuprophen, then 2 hours later the Panadol, then two hours later the Ibuprophen, then Panadol. The end result is that the only time you don’t have some sort of pain relief in your system is when you wake in agony at 4am, ready to take another Ibuprophen. That’s when you discover that Ibuprophen seems to kick in over three stages of about fifteen minutes each.
Oh yeah, keep eating (or drinking) so that you have something in your stomach, because Ibuprophen rots your stomach lining.
Comment by Damian — 17 March, 2006 4:57 pm
Hmmm, that’s cocktail.
Comment by Damian — 17 March, 2006 4:59 pm
Roaring post: one of our two featured blog posts of the day at Candide’s Notebooks (www.pierretristam.com)
Comment by Candide's Notebooks — 17 March, 2006 5:30 pm
I’m going to use that next time I go to the doctor.. Nothing, just allergic to rabbits.. awesome!
Comment by Angel — 21 March, 2006 8:23 pm
Oh my God!!!
I have been suffering with tooth ache (abcess) now for a week!!! It is getting worse.
First thing, I had to go to an emergency dentist as it was bank holiday week end!!! All they did was tap my tooth and give me some atibiotics!!! They are still not working. First thing today I rang my own dentist to” sorry Mr Johnston we can only fit you in on Friday” Great NHS!!!! So there you are, more Nurofen down my throat!!! The pain at this point was so bad, I rang a local private dentist who said yes Mr Johnston come down, it will cost you 200 pound just to be seen!!! What just to tell me that I have an abcess and that you will need route canal!!!! great.
I have no tips to get rid of the pain!!! being an ex soldier I thought I could handle it but jesus it hurts!!! Now in the police my mates can not beleive I have taken a few days off because of a tooth ache!!!
Gary Johnston, London
Comment by gary — 30 May, 2006 4:54 pm