Pain is a trigger

I think it's a fair assumption to say that most people hate the dentist, no matter how many legs they have. I've had my leg cut off, and I'm still scared of the dentist; there I said it. I won't put off seeing my oncologist, but I will delay a dental appointment to the point where a slightly cracked tooth becomes a fully cracked and now infected tooth. And apparently, that means a tooth is beyond repair and must come out (story of my life…or leg?)

Sorry in advance, but after you read this, you'll want to floss twice tonight.

My dental surgeon recommended removing the tooth and doing what is called a "bone graft," where bone-like material is placed into the area where my jaw bone once existed below that tooth to build it back up for an implant to be inserted at a later date. My only question was - what drugs are you going to give me so I forget you are drilling into my jawbone, Sir?

I was given IV sedation and woke up feeling drowsy but numb, woohoo! But then, a few hours later, the throbbing started, radiating from my lower jaw up the side of my forehead. And as I reached for my post-op prescriptions, I realized it was mostly just ibuprofen. Imagine my shock; as someone who is all too familiar with surgery and post-op pain, being given ibuprofen is like being told to drink a glass of water to break up a giant kidney stone. As much as I wished for a Dilaudid drip at that moment, I had to settle for two ice packs and a prayer.

A few days in, I had forgotten just how much intense pain can mess with your mental health. After everything that's happened with my health, I realized one of the most triggering things post-cancer and major surgery is feeling so miserable you can't get off the couch. My brain was like, "Ohhhhhh heck no! We aren't doing this again!". And there I was, back in the hardest moments while simultaneously trying to remind myself that this isn't that. This isn't cancer, and it's just a few days of discomfort. If I can make it through limb salvage surgery, countless biopsies, and an amputation, I can most certainly handle a dental procedure. But I won't lie, I had to hype myself up a few times and refocus my energy.

We don't talk enough about the mental health repercussions of life after cancer or trauma. Yes, we made it through. Yes, we are stronger. But the healing doesn't stop there. Maybe that's actually where it starts. The happiness after takes work and lots of it. There are countless internal battles to be fought, and at this point, ten years after my initial diagnosis, I'm convinced they last a lifetime. But I would slay a thousand dragons if it meant I get to keep this beautiful little life of mine. And I think I'll go ahead and set a calendar reminder now for my next dental exam.