Tag Archives: dentist

Say no to ONJ

I am pleased to report that following my trip to the dentist today I apparently have fat cheeks (on my face) but no ONJ.

After enquiring how my dentist was settling in, having only qualified last summer, Dr F asked what he could do for me.  ‘I’d like you to tell me I don’t have osteonecrosis.’

Dr F:  ‘Someone been on the internet?’

So after me explaining about temp spikes, ear infection, sore mouth, Dr F had a good old poke and prod about and established which bit was sorest.  Apparently the point of ultimate soreness is exactly where a whole buncha nerves meet up and party.  Having checked the outside of my jaw and then the left compared to the right – they match – there is no sign at all that it is ONJ.

However I do the mouthy equivalent of a bruise because I have chubby chops. Because I have had my top left wisdom tooth out the bottom one has nothing to press against and is a little longer than it would otherwise be (I just realised that as well as saying I had fat cheeks the young whipper snapper also told me I was long in the tooth) and the fatty deposits in my cheek are being accosted by said tooth resulting in quite a lot of redness and a bit of whiteness which was the ‘bruise’.  I just figured the redness was a result of the sore bit.

I got to look at this myself with the aid of a mirror and do you know how unflattering an angle it is to look at yourself whilst laying down with your mouth open – you can see up your nose and everything, well your nose.

So Dr F asked for a second opinion from Dr T, whose practice it is and who has been dentisting for about 25 years – so I had the best of both worlds – newly pressed dental knowledge and the wisdom of experience.  Dr T concurred and apparently I am a grinder as well so that could exacerbate the problem with the fat cheek.

So the outcome was no ONJ and if my fat cheek doesn’t settle down in seven to 10 days I can go back and they’ll do something – I don’t know what, maybe put it on a diet!

Sometimes it’s not good to be too hot!

Yesterday morning I felt fantastic.  I made me realise that even when I felt better last week I was a way from the usual me.  And then yesterday afternoon  I wilted again.  It didn’t help that I was typing a HUGE homebuyer survey report by a really boring sounding surveyor (think highly successful alternative career making tapes for insomniacs).  I awoke several times to this sort of thing…

In a proppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp

There were high dammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Seriously!  Not good.  And because this time of year can be quite quiet I was thrilled to pick up such a big job – obviously every other typist knew something I didn’t.  The general lack of enthusiasm, on both parts I think, was compounded by the surveyor changing his mind about things and in my 10 years of working for a surveyors typing or otherwise, I have never heard the word ‘verticality’ used – in relation to chimneys or anything else.

When I took my temperature when I clocked off, guess what, it was a tad high 37.8 but I felt pretty blah.  As the report had taken me 20 minutes over my working hours I was having to work an additional 30 minutes anyway because of an appointment with my acupuncturist things in the kitchen were hotting up too by 18:50.  With B working nights we can’t exactly be too flexible with tea time so B had started tea – not a tea he normally does on his own.  Anyhoo I surprised him by getting it done by 19:15 and we had tea – my appetite was fine and then I nodded off on the settee until B went to work.  My temp hadn’t settled and I decided to have a bath – I then proceeded to nod off in the bath from 20:30 until 22:00.  Fortunately we have a talking Simpsons clock in the kitchen and I’d left the light on (it doesn’t work in the dark) so I was awakened from my slumber at 21:00 and subsequently 22:00, at which point I dragged myself out of the bath.

Now normally if I’m in the bath any length of time I’m reading so the extreme wrinkled state in which I found my hands was something to behold.  An hour later when I went to bed they were still wrinkly.  It’s just as well I haven’t activated fingerprint recognition on the laptop or I’d have been stuck.

Today I should have gone for my second revaccination but when I phoned the nurse said to book it for next week as this morning my temp was not back to 37 and I felt ropy.  I did feel better by lunch time and although tired now I’m not sleepy or exhausted.  B had been relieved since he got up that my temperature had stabilised and this afternoon actually went back to 37 then just after I clocked off work I felt really warm and it was 38.7.  When I told B he suggested I may not have been reading it correctly.  So I showed him the thermometer which still said 38.7 and he nodded sagely and then, approximately half an hour later this being, I took it again so he could witness the whole high temp thing – it was 37!

At this exact moment 09:01 it’s 38.1.  I think I’m going to make an appointment with our GP tomorrow and I already have one booked with the dentist as the back of my mouth, definitely not tooth, possibly jaw has become a bit sore and I’m wondering if this is the source of the infection.  And no, Ruth I didn’t get a leaflet when I changed to Zometa I forgot to ask for one despite you mentioning it but I have now printed off the information from Myeloma UK.

I seriously think I may be turning into a hypochondriac but then again you can never be too careful.

On the crafting front which has been decidedly small over the past two weeks I’ve made one Buddy, a pair of mittens (which I can’t show because they were ordered) and my worm got a tad fatter…

although it may have to go on a diet as I think I went wrong and all the blocking in the world ain’t gonna fix it.  The sides, which somehow the camera missed, are not as straight as they should be.  Doh!

I’m Drooling!

Is it due to a nice cake, midget gems or a hunky man?  No, I have to keep checking the corner of my mouth because I’ve had a filling in my wisdom tooth.  I  obviously needed a top up.

When we were on holiday I noticed a mark on two of my upper backish teeth which I assumed was decay.  During my SCT holiday my teeth had been a bit, well I’ll go with sensitive but odd is probably a better description.  When I attempted to force down chocolate or anything sugary they felt kinda of like sensitive teeth with hot and cold, but not quite.  Anyhoo, it passed until I had a slight tingle on holiday (lucky me!).  On checking in the  mirror I spotted the mark, gave it a prod and called the dentist.

It’s been about two years since I’ve been.  Initially because I couldn’t have sat in the chair (due to back pain) and then with one thing and a SCT I neglected it.  The good news was I’ve been a good girl and looked after my teeth.  When the new dentist said he was impressed at the condition of my teeth I thought it was somehow myeloma related however it turned out he was impressed because I was the first patient he’d seen since he’d been there that didn’t need a scale and polish.   I did however need the aforementioned filling.  The marks on the other two teeth were stained rather than decayed, so when I went back for the filling the dentist would give them a scale and see if he could remove the marks, which he considered had been caused by some of the medication I’d been taking.

So off we trundled today.  For some reason whenever B has had to take me to the dentist he doesn’t come in and wait.  It doesn’t bother him, B is a regular attendee at his own dentist, but considering all the other appointments he comes with me to, somehow a dentist is different.

In I went and the very newly qualified dentist (June – I asked) talks me through everything.  Now I’m pretty sure my previous dentist who has left the practice didn’t do this – only pretty sure because he had an Irish or maybe Scottish, definitely celtic accent – it was hard to tell he was so softly spoken.  So he could very well have been telling me exactly what he was doing whilst I thought he was talking to the dental nurse about what he’d had for lunch!

Two injections and a stain removing polish later, things weren’t quite as numb as they should have been.  The head honcho was called for a bit of advice, after an explanation on nerves branching off in two directions and my bone being very near to the surface.  Head honcho then injected again, saying that sometimes it’s not the exact placement of the needle but the speed the numbing agent is administered that makes a difference – it has chance to, and I quote, percolate!

So after three lots of anaesthetic and a chat about the dental hospital where Dr K had trained and where I had been, we had reached a suitable point of percolation whereby I was numb from the back of my mouth to the middle of my lower lip, the left side of my tongue but I could still feel a tiny bit of a scratch on the inside gum.  Head honcho was called again after the reassuring exchange

Me:  ‘I could only feel it a tiny bit.’

Dr K:  (who wears winkle pickers with points that could probably extract a tooth on their own):  ‘Yes, but I don’t want to hurt you.  We don’t want to start and find that I’ve done the hole and then …’  Which, in my opinion, is something you DO want to hear from a dentist.

Head honcho stated, after some technical spiel which included some word beginning with L, that he thought everything should be fine.  I piped up that we didn’t want to hear what he thought, rather what he knew!

Head honcho:  ‘It will be fine.’ Reopening the door slightly ‘Well, it should be!’

And it was!

Dr K and I had a little chat regarding me changing to Zometa, such as the further implications of this over Bonefos with regard to any future procedures, and I’ll see him again for a check up in six months

I said to B when we got home that if he felt like giving me a slap this might be a good time.  Apparently he never feels this way which is quite something given my little singing performance this morning.  I can’t sing.  I know this for a fact, without people telling me.  I can’t for the life of me understand people who go on the X-factor and make some horrendous spectacle of themselves and look stunned and disbelieving when they are informed they can’t sing.  (Hey I’m not saying it’s not funny – I just can’t understand them.) Sometimes however, in the privacy of my own home, the knowledge that I can’t carry a tune in a bucket doesn’t stop me and this morning was one of those occasions.

‘Joy to the world, to every boy and girl.  Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, Joy to you and me.’

It’s on the CD in the car, I don’t even know the correct name of the song, and this is the only bit I know so it was repeated and repeated whilst I was having a shower and getting ready.  Awwww my husband truly loves me, ummm or maybe it’s that I’m still too numb to sing!

(Footnote – You may need some sort of receptacle to hand – in case of a gippy stomach

B, who as we know has only ever read about three of my posts, has read this one and would like me to point out that my singing this morning in no way offended his senses, in fact, if anything, it made him happy because I was happy! –

Quick reach for the bin!)