I didn’t post yesterday. Pissy Kitty was feeling really under the weather. I still don’t know what the hell it was, not sure if it’s going to flair up again, but am babying myself in the hopes it will go away completely, because I do not like going to the doctor!
It came completely out of nowhere. I was just sitting in bed Tuesday night watching ‘yummy’ Mark Harmon on “NCIS”, and eating a small plate of potato and macaroni salad—Hey, I was trying to get rid of what was left in both of the store-bought containers before they went bad—and a bowl of Chili Cheese Frito’s—Okay…I have no excuse for that one—when all of the sudden this sharp pain hit where the hinge on the right side of my jaw is. At first I thought it was nothing more than maybe just the tanginess of the salad dressing making me wince—I don’t know if that’s ever happened to any of you, but there have been times I’ve eaten something that’s bitter and it literally causes my eyes to squint, my jaws to lock, and a shudder to run through me—but when I tried popping a few more Frito’s in my mouth and chewing them, I was suddenly racked with pain. I instinctively reached up to hold my jaw—Yes, I wiped my Frito-covered-fingers off first, before any of you think I’m a complete Pig!—and noticed that the glands in front/behind my ear and below my jaw were really swollen. WTF? I mean it swelled up like that in seconds! This is not something that I just didn’t notice at first, as I had just gotten out of the shower and WOULD have noticed; it just swelled out of the blue. Beats the hell out of me what it was.
I admit, I kinda freaked and ran to the bathroom first—almost expecting to look like the fat lady who had an allergic reaction to crab legs and swelled up in the movie “Doctor Dolittle”—then upon realizing I was only ‘mildly’ hideous, went to my husband for support…which I didn’t get! I blocked the tv—which you absolutely have to do in order to get his attention when he’s watching “Swamp People”, “Pawn Stars”, or ‘Ted Nugent’ on the hunting channel—leaned into his face, and asked him how bad the swelling looked. He half looked at me—the wrong side of my jaw, I might add—and half around me at the tv, and told me he didn’t know what I was talking about.
“My damn jaw!” I shrilled. “It’s morphing into something!”
“I don’t see anything.” He tells me straining to the side, because now I’m practically straddling his lap.
“Well then, feeeel it.” I’m telling him, groping for his hand that he’s pulled away and is trying to tuck underneath him.
“I don’t want to ‘feeeel’ it.” he tells me, and begins shoving me away. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. If you don’t feel good go to bed.”
I went to bed all right. I stomped all the way up the stairs to bed, but not until I’d begun to cry and tell him that I could have a tumor or some damn thing, but never mind me as long as he didn’t miss an episode of Swamp People. He knew better than to talk to me later when he crawled between the sheets, but I did notice that he glanced over at my jaw before rolling over. Fat lotta good that did me to convince him by then, because the swelling had already gone down.
I woke up yesterday morning feeling like shit. The swelling was minuscule, but I still felt the tenderness. That, and whatever it was seemed to zap the energy right out of me: I didn’t want to sit at the computer, clean house, or do anything beyond the couch. I just laid there all day watching boring, daytime tv. This morning I still feel a twinge of it, but am getting some of my energy back.
Okay, so I have a tendency to self-diagnose, because as I stated before I do not like going to the doctor!—and the closest thing that I could even remotely come up with is that maybe it had something to do with the root planing I had done in my gums a couple weeks back. Maybe I have a mild infection from it or something and what I was eating inflamed it. Who the hell knows, but I don’t want the swelling to reoccur, and am wondering if maybe I need to contact the dentist about it. This poses a problem right now, because I just got into it with the office manager that works there over a $49 unpaid bill—God forbid you let it get that high!—I’m currently debating whether or not I ever want to return there again—Because she came across as a damn, bill collector on steroids, and I don’t let ANYONE talk to me like that—and if I do, she runs a great risk of my coming across the counter, or at the least my telling her to stop acting like I owe her the damn money, to get a ‘real’ fucking life, and stop getting her self-esteem from the menial position she holds. Sheesh…It ain’t all that! ((Sigh))
Well, so here I am today, back on the computer, back to blogging, but bitching again about something else. Will it never end? Just when things start looking up, it appears I’m finally getting all my I’s dotted and T’s crossed, life again hands me a shit-sandwich instead of a meal, and tells me “You’d better enjoy it, cause that’s all your getting!” With my luck I half expect my teeth to fall clean out of my head. So anyway, I’m not quite sure what to do now, other than rinse with warm, salt-water and hope for the best. Were the Frito’s worth it? YOU BETCHA!