A year and a
half ago during a very busy week, my husband’s oldest daughter’s wedding week,
I broke a tooth. It was a back molar. The inside quarter of the crown snapped
right off in my mouth while I was eating chocolate chips. This will seem
funnier later.
Because it
didn’t hurt and it seemed to be okay I decided I could ignore it and I didn’t
need to have a dentist look at it.
I told no
one.
Why?
Pride? Fear?
Who knows?
I just know
for over a year I knew I had a broken
tooth hidden in my mouth that no one else knew about or could see. But I knew
about it every day of my life. When I brushed my teeth, when I rubbed my tongue
across its now sharp edges and felt the broken space, the emptiness, I knew.
Briefly I
thought that this might be an issue. But a month went by, three months, six
months and then a year. Nothing. Just a broken, jagged tooth. I dismissed the
possibility of it becoming a problem.
Until last month.
Last week I
woke up with horrible ear and jaw pain. I endured both for three days. Finally I
went to the walk-in clinic. I had an ear infection. Not a flaming one, but the
beginnings of one. Way too much fluid in my ear, and definitely the wrong
color. So, the doctor put me on an antibiotic and said if the pain in my ear and jaw
were not markedly better in two or three days then I needed to see someone
else.
Sunday and
Monday the pain persisted. Dose after dose of antibiotic. Does after dose of
ibuprofen. I woke up Tuesday morning and the pain was far less severe. I was
quite happy. All this time I had this niggling feeling that this broken tooth
of mine was causing the problem.
On Tuesday I
went to school and taught. Ate lunch, and then went to work. In the next hour I
thought by jaw and ear were going to explode. Stabs of pain. Pulsating and hot.
Enough was
enough.
I called the
dentist. Asked for an emergency appointment. They accommodated me and got me in
in less than an hour and a half.
I explained
the whole ordeal. My teeth were examined. X-rays were taken. And two more tests
were done.
My tooth was
dead. The tooth I had worried and hidden was dead. And it was the culprit of my
ear and jaw pain.
I had two
options. Leave it in my mouth and do a root canal and crown or extract it.
I laughed.
One option.
Extract it.
Take it out.
The tooth
that was once strong and healthy became damaged, and I failed to take care of
it. Now, it was causing me pain and visible to everyone.
I’m not sure
I tried to deceptively hide this; I just didn’t bother to tell anyone.
But as I lay
there in the chair, being numbed with giant needles and then for thirty minutes
as the dentist attempted to get this broken, dead tooth out of my mouth, I prayed.
This constant litany of prayer. For me. For him.
And I shook.
My whole body. The nurse later told me she could see my jaw quiver. Somewhere
in the midst of the whole ordeal the dentist patted my shoulder and said, “By
the way, you’re doing great.” His words barely registered.
I remember
at first just thinking I wanted to be strong. Unafraid. I didn’t want to flinch
or react. This had to be done. It had to be removed.
About midway
through the dentist and I realized that the roots of this tooth were deep. Deep
and curved.
About
three-fourths of the way through he realized the tooth was going to have to be
cut in half and pulled out in two pieces.
My mouth
became somewhat of a war zone. He pushed and pulled and wiggled my tooth with such
force that I could feel it in the other side of my jaw.
At last one root
popped and came out. Then the other.
And it was
done.
I was still
shaking. Still praying.
He explained
why it had been so hard. Because the tooth was broken it was very hard for him
to get a grip and a purchase on it. Then the other half of the crown crumbled
as he tried to pull it out. But it was extracted. All of it. No roots left. No roots
to set up a bitter infection. He looked at the nurse and said let’s get her
cleaned up.
At that
point my face must have registered some serious confusion. She began to clean
my face. TMI I know, but there had been blood in the fray. And shrapnel. Pieces
of the tooth were on my face and chest. She was gentle and very sweet.
The dentist told
me I could sit and relax.
The nurse
asked me if I wanted to see the tooth. I did. Such a tiny thing. Two tiny
pieces of bone. And they caused so much havoc.
They explained
how to take care of the wound. Of the hole. Of the socket where the tooth had
once been.
Finally I
felt steady enough to walk out. To leave.
And I did.
Over the
course of the next few days I would play the day and that scene over and over
again. At one point I stood up to get something and I discovered my hip, knee
and ankle on my right side were incredibly sore. What in the world? I sat down
in the recliner to relax and watch a little TV. I crossed my right ankle over
my left and then shifted my weight. That’s when my hip, knee and ankle really
hurt. I looked down and realized that the recliner was much like the dentist
chair. During the whole procedure I was in this exact same position. I tried so
hard to handle the situation well that I tensed my whole body in a position
that looked relaxed, but in reality my ankles were locked together like a dove
joint.
Somewhere in
my review of the day I realized the Holy Spirit was speaking to me.
I
illuminating. Exposing. Revealing.
First, I
believe the enemy did a great many things to deter me and derail
my focus from some very important events. He caused me to look inward to the pain. But what the enemy means for
bad, our Mighty God always can show you the good.
Second, I
believe my tooth was and is much like the idolatry. Originally our idols may have
been something healthy and good, but if
they get damaged and then hidden? Well, then they deteriorate and decay.
Then they die and they cause pain. And sometimes we can’t tell where the pain
comes from. We treat other things. And the pain continues, until we find the
source.
Third, when we recognize that damage has been done we need to go to God.
Immediately. We are not to wait and roll our tongues over the edges and see
just how sharp they are. We are not to assume that just because it seems to be
causing no problems right now that it will continue not to do so in the future.
That’s a very faulty and dangerous assumption.
Fourth, I
believe we need to lay down our pride and this staunch stoicism of wanting to
appear strong. To appear unfazed. To appear in control. To appear confident. To
appear flawless.
Fifth, I
believe we need to pray. Pray. Pray. And pray some more.
Sixth, it's amazing to me the tools God will use to teach us.
