Dear Ravi,
Yesterday was a long day. I spent 3 hours in a dentist’s chair. As you know, the root canal I had last week decided to kick off an infection. I am so glad that you never had to have a root canal. Obviously, it you had to have one, I would have it done under full sedation. Anyway, I staggered back into the endodontist office yesterday. A pair of wonderful dentists took all the packing out of the tooth, washed it down, packed the tooth with medicine and filled it back up again with a temporary crown. To say the least, it was not fun. I returned home with a mouth packed full of gauze and drooling enough to make any basset hound proud. It was not my finest moment. I was in bed by 8pm and slept over 13 hours.
It is a cool rainy day outside. No birds at the feeder yet, though we did have some customers yesterday. I am not planning to do much today. My pain level has dropped from an 8 out of 10 to about a 3 or a 4, which is a relief. I still have no interest in food. It is a good day just to stay home, read, and cuddle the pets. I have another appointment tomorrow at 8am to recheck the tooth. We have already cancelled our trip to Virginia. I really wanted to visit the Agans this week, but I am afraid that the tooth will flare up again. As I have state insurance, I cannot be seen by any provider who is outside of Minnesota. Being stuck in rural Virginia with an unhappy infected tooth does not seem like a wise idea. The dentist said he would write me a letter for the airline, hoping that we can exchange our tickets for the week of Thanksgiving.
Sweet boy, I am so glad that you had good teeth. Unlike Mercury, you did not need braces. With a few exceptions, your teeth were strong and healthy. You had excellent dental providers, and anything major was done at the hospital under general sedation. I never would have put you through any dental pain. You suffered enough with epilepsy and osteosarcoma. I wish you were with me to cuddle right now. We would hang out together under your fleece blanket and watch videos on Sam, or just chat. I miss those moments deeply. You often come to me in my dreams. You don’t have Sam with you, nor do you use mouth words, but you are always bright and happy. I don’t think that mouth words are needed in heaven. Do you remember how I used to play Pink Floyd for you when you were in my belly? And how I would play it for you when you were tiny and it always calmed you down? I wish you were here, but I know that you are someplace far better. Love you forever. Mom.
