Bible scholars might recall the story of the woman with the issue of blood. She had been sick for years, and Mark 5:26 tells us, "She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse."
Wow... can I relate.
It all started with an infected front tooth I chipped when I was a kid. As an adult, it turned brown and died. I had a root canal done several years ago, and spent weeks having it bleached white from the inside out. For about two years, it was okay... then began to shift. It left a gap that would make T.D. Jakes jealous. So, after visiting the dentist in November of 2010, they recommended I have it pulled 70 miles away in Gaylord, and replaced with a permanent implant. So that's what I did. Well, I had it pulled anyway.
Three months after having the tooth pulled, I traveled 70 miles back to Gaylord to have the metal screw drilled in my mouth that would hold the implant in place. "Oh no," I was told. "We're just checking today to make sure we can go ahead." So they checked. Yep, all set. But they wouldn't have another appointment until May. So, a three month delay. In May, after another 140-mile round trip, they put in the screw, which would have to heal for three months before I could have the new tooth. Okay, so... we're looking at August. 8 months with no tooth. Frustrating.
July came along, and I kept feeling something funky in my mouth. I got curious enough to look, only to discover that the screw was sticking out of my gums. Lovely. I called Gaylord. Another trip. "Yep, that's a problem. Come back and we'll take it out." So, another long trip a few days later. Now we're back to ground zero. Another three month wait before they can put the screw back in. Now... we're looking at October for the new implant, and likely January before the new tooth.
October comes around. "Looks good," the dentist said after I drove another 70 miles to see him. "Let's give it another month." November. Marathon Gas station erects a statue in my name. The Dr. puts the new screw in. "I'll see you February 14th to check it, and then your dentist will put the new tooth in." Valentine's Day, another trip to Gaylord, another 3 minute appointment, and he tells me that in two weeks, the dentist at home can put the tooth in. So, I call the dentist at home. They'll call me in a couple weeks. Two weeks go by. A month. Six weeks. Finally, after two months, I call. "Oh, you're ready now? Good! We're glad you called."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME????????????????
Oh, but they weren't ready to put the tooth in. Nope. First they have to clear some of the gum away that's grown around the new screw because we've waited so long. Bite lip, bite lip. They freeze me up, and begin to unscrew the healing cap....
"Did your dentist in Gaylord have to do this over? I don't have a tool that will fit this. We'll have to reschedule." Yep. The dentist's office didn't listen to me, or check the notes they had in their hands from the dentist in Gaylord. So... another two weeks to wait until the tool comes in. Two weeks go by, I'm back in the chair again for impressions. Yep, we got 'em. See you in 30 days for the implant.
Four days later. The phone rings. They want to do the impressions over. I won't tell you what I thought, because unfortunately, it wasn't very Christian of me. I'm scheduled for the new tooth, once and for all, on May 30th, 17 months after the tooth was pulled.
Anybody want to bet it doesn't fit?
Oh... and here's the best part. In the midst of all this, my hip started burning like fire. I went to the doctor, they took x-rays (which they showed me) that indicated arthritis. There's no cartilage in my right hip. I'm walking bone on bone. Off to the Orthopedic Surgeon, who somehow saw cartilage that wasn't there, gave me a shot of Cortisone, and sent me on my merry way. A month later, still in pain, he prescribed 6 weeks of physical therapy. Well, 6 weeks turned into 12 with another Cortisone shot because of course... the cartilage that isn't there that the doctor says is there isn't feeling better like he says it should. So, after yet another shot of Cortisone, he referred me to a back doctor. For my hip.
I'm asking for a referral for a headache doctor. I'm getting very sore from banging my head against this brick wall.