Skip to main content

Dodgy roots

 Today I’ve had a busy morning involving a trip to the dentist and the hospital. I had to go to hospital to have some blood tests done to see how my haemoglobin levels are doing on the new iron tablets. I’m not sure there’s going to be a big improvement cause I still feel exhausted and breathless a lot but hopefully I will have the results back before my appointment with my consultant next week so we can make a plan. I originally went to the GP surgery last week to have the blood tests but after two nurses spent 45 minutes trying (and failing) to find a vein they admitted defeat and decided the hospital phlebotomists would be the best people to do the tests. 

I’ve mentioned in a couple of previous blog posts that I’ve had toothache for the last couple of weeks and I’ve tried my hardest to put off going to the dentist but it’s been getting bad. Every time I eat or drink anything I’m getting a shooting pain in one tooth in particular but there are a couple of other teeth that are sore too and I decided on Friday to call the dentist and see what they suggested. I didn’t really want to go into the surgery with me still shielding but they were worried that I could have an abscess that would only get worse if left. But I needn’t have worried because it was all very safe with someone coming to take my temperature before I was allowed into the reception area and chairs clearly zoned and 2m apart in the waiting area.

I had hoped that I would just need a small filling or some other minor treatment but it’s more complicated than that, as is always the way with me! The dentist took 4 X-rays to see what she was dealing with and it showed that the tooth I’m getting the most pain in needs root canal treatment. Nothing out of the ordinary there except for the fact that this root curves under another tooth which apparently makes it very difficult to successfully carry out the root canal. So my options are to either let my normal dentist have a go knowing that she probably will fail, get referred to a specialist in root canals but this has to be done as a private patient and could cost £800+ or have the tooth pulled out. But if I decide to have to tooth out I need to be referred to the dental surgeons because it will be a tricky extraction apparently. Talk about frying pan and fire! 

I’ve also got another tooth that looks like it needs to come out, one that needs a crown and unusually a 5th wisdom tooth! I thought all my problems were waist down but it seems like my whole body is knackered! And before anyone says I need to look after my teeth better I have gone to the dentist every 6 months throughout my whole life and brush them twice a day. However I have always had issues with my teeth because they are very weak and are literally crumbling which the dentist thinks is as a result of me having a childhood illness like chicken pox during the time they were developing. I even wear a shield at night because I grind my teeth when I’m in pain and this was causing even more damage. So I’m going to talk to Hubby later when he finishes work to decide what’s the best thing to do. Is it worth spending the money to have to root canal treatment? (even though it’s not something I particularly fancy having done) And what else would I rather spend the £800 on?! But then again I don’t fancy ending up with loads of gaps in my mouth and if we start pulling teeth out will that affect the ones that are left on either side? I wish things could just be simple for me every now and again! 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Light at the end of tunnel

I’m sat writing this blog post in St Marks, the specialist bowel hospital in London. So much has happened in the last few weeks; it’s all been a bit of a whirlwind. But I finally feel like there is some hope at the end of the tunnel. Let me tell you why.  At the beginning of June I was admitted yet again to QMC in Nottingham with huge amounts of pain, my bowels not working properly and just feeling generally unwell. I had only been home a couple of weeks since the admission in May but I had been feeling so rubbish most of my time had been spent in bed. I had tried everything I could to stay at home but the pain had become so bad I was barely able to stand or take a few steps on my own.  I had expected to maybe be in for a week or two to get stronger pain meds and get back on my feet but I ended up being in for almost a month. They put me on morphine injections and ketamine but then stopped them when my heart rate dropped to 30 beats per minute and my breathing to 7 breaths a minute. Th

The light at the end of the tunnel is a train

Last week was a busy and pretty crappy week for me health wise. I had to go and have blood tests done with the nutrition nurses and I had two hospital appointments; one with the gallbladder surgeon in Nottingham and the other with colorectal surgeon at St Marks. I was hoping to have at least one surgery date to write in the diary following these appointments but I came home empty handed on both occasions. Here’s what happened.  I began noticing over the last few weeks that I’ve started feeling really crappy. I’m feel lucky to have been at home for the last 6 months and I have been the most well I have been for years but it felt like things had shifted slightly recently but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But years of being sick means I know my body and I can tell when something isn’t right. I have been feeling permanently exhausted and having way more bad days than good. I’ve gone back to spending 2, 3 or more consecutive days in bed, unable to do anything but watch tv and sleep.

The wrong size line

I’m on the M1 heading back to Nottingham after a road trip to St Marks to get my line repaired. But this is me, and as usual it wasn’t a smooth ride. More like a bloody shit show. So what happened? Let me tell you… After being admitted to QMC in Nottingham on Sunday with a broken Hickman line I was taken down to Interventional Radiology on Monday afternoon to get my line repaired. Firstly, I couldn’t believe it was happening so quickly and secondly I didn’t want to get too excited because, well it’s me, and usually things don’t go according to plan. And sadly I right to rein in the excitement.  When the doctor came to consent me for the procedure it was for a replacement, not a repair. I assumed he had made a mistake so I told him I was there to get my line repaired and was definitely not there for a new one. He looked at me and said “I hate to be the bearer of bad news…” and that’s a sentence that never bodes well. He then went on to say that they didn’t have any repair kits and that