So the cell phone number of the male dentist was the wrong number. The infection moved to the front of my face, and I tried contacting him at 4am so he could tell me to go to the E.R. or not. Instead, we showed up at his office at 8 am (when they opened). He said it got so bad, it was out of his hands.

He recommended me to Julie Bradshaw, an oral surgeon in town. So we drove over there, and they got me in right away. Grant drove me there and I called my mom and had her drive to the office we were at too.

The doctor came in and told me that I had two options: that she could either pull the two teeth, or do a root canal and put a crown on the tooth with a hole. She said the best idea would be to pull the teeth. So I agreed.

I had to sign release forms for giving me heavy sedatives. They also wrote me prescriptions before the surgery even began, which Grant had to run to Walgreens and get, because as soon as the operation was over, I had to be put on the dual-antibiotics.

So I took the sedatives and waited in the waiting room. About 15 mins later, my mom showed up (while Grant was still at Walgreens). About 15 mins after that, they called me back, and they had to carry me.

They started the operation. I don't remember much, except feeling needles going into my infected (and already in excrucating fucking pain) gums. I guess I was screaming and crying so loud, that I was scaring other patients, so they had to put me in the back of the office in the last room.

Apparently I told them in the middle of the operation that I had to urinate (which I don't remember)...and a nurse and my mother carried me in there and sat me on the toilet...and I couldn't pee....they even put my hand under warm water while I was sitting on the toilet...and it didn't work.

So they took me back. I guess I traumatized Dr. Julie Bradshaw, because she called in a colleuge of hers (some male doctor) to be there who helped her. There was 2 nurses and 2 doctors and my mom back there. Apparently they pulled one tooth, and didn't end up pulling the other because one was enough for them. My mother said I did everything they asked me to, and I didn't have to be held down, I just screamed and cried a lot.

One of the infected teeth is gone....but my cheek is still filled with pus. She drained some of it, but not much. It's still very dangerous, and I am extremley doped up on two different anti-biotics and two different pain meds.

They didn't want the people in the waiting room to see me (i was drooling out blood and unable to walk), so my mom drove the car around the back of the office, and the female doctor carried me out to the car.

On the ride home, I called Grant and started crying (Also don't remember this).

And then while I was at my mom's....she told me I kept making her lay on the bed and cuddle me so I could fall back asleep.

*sigh* What a day.

Now Dace is coming over to baby-sit me, while Grant goes to work. Isn't this dandy?