Notes from the Field – Toothy Terror

So after much delay and hoping I’d get leave to travel ‘home’ (and visit my dentist), an aching molar saw me running out of office yesterday in search of a clean but reasonable place to get an extraction. Prices for medical treatment in Uganda seem ridiculous, and I was more than tempted to try a self extraction Tom Hanks style with an ice skate – the pain couldn’t be any worse than what it already was. Anyway, I walked in to the best looking place and waited to be fitted inbetween pre-booked clients. The dentist, a nice lady from Goa who has recently finished a 7 year stint in the DRC, took one look and said a surgeon would be needed, and it could be done the following week. The problem is that on Monday I am meant to be travelling out to very rural areas to relocate a couple of hundred graves and shrines, so waiting was not an option. After some thought, the dentist offered to try it herself, but that the surgeon would be on call in case she couldn’t manage it. Fine. My teeth are normally easy to deal with….anaesthetic, push, pull and all done within 5 mins. I agreed. So she gave me the injections and sent me out to wait for the numbing effect while she dealt with another patient (young Ugandan boy on his own, lots of drilling noises and screaming). Now, I hate the injections (needle audibly popping through the roof of the mouth and feeling like its heading up to your eye socket), but I love the feel of the numbness spreading and the weirdness of trying to smile and drink with only half your lips functioning. But as I was sitting there, I realised something wasn’t quite right….. People were staring….not the usual curious looks, but unabashed looks of horrified fascination. Within 1 minute of the injection and sitting down in the waiting room, I looked like a hamster who’d found a stash of carrots. Not sliced carrots, but whole ones. Turned out, the needle had hit an artery, caused internal bleeding, and my cheek was swelling up into a massive hematoma. No problem…..after all, I couldn’t feel a thing. Back in the dentist chair and several ice packs later, the dentist started on the molar.  We expected it to be a quick job. 1 hour later, she’s still struggling, and she’s a small lady and having to put all her force behind the pliers and crowbar(??) for maximum leverage. Just shy of 2 hours was how long it took, plus 16 additional injections to keep the numbness topped up. Meanwhile, she had had to cut the tooth into sections and drill into the jawbone because the three roots were fused. I am sure I could feel the bones on the other side of my face shifting, and Without a doubt, my nose was creaking. My gum feels like its been through a meat grinder, and the corner of my mouth split because of the awkward angle of the tools, and the vigorous tugging. Worse, though, I had left all my stuff in the office and had to wobble my way back there (all 6km) on a motorbike taxi, all the while rabidly drooling blood. Today the swelling is still the same but turning black and blue, and I look like a drunken chinchilla sporting the Joker’s leer, lopsidedly.

*Edit* this is totally not a grump about the Dentist…she was great, very patient and very apologetic….and to be fair, she did warn me it would be better to get it done by a surgeon. And let’s face it….only $30, almost zero waiting time, and I got a free litre of apple juice.