Friday, January 6, 2012

Personal note - you have betrayed me, First Molar!

So last night I finish the Atmosphere post, and promptly attempt to go to sleep. It's an entirely reasonable time to sleep - I have a good twelve hours before I had to get up for work (13:00).

Four hours later, I can't. I have a killer toothache, which has stretched its way up the side of my face and into my brain. But I keep trying.

Two hours later, I still can't sleep. I take three Tylenol Extra Strength - 'cause I might as well play on the safe side - and try for another hour. No dice.

I take another Tylenol. No dice. For hours I just laid there - desperate for sleep - with this monstrous, throbbing, stabbing in my head. I legitimately considered finding a pair of pliers and just cracking the thing out of my jaw.

What's weird is - if it was there before - I didn't notice it until I finished the post and went to bed.

By 08:00, I am clearly in a bad position. I Google Map a nearby dentist, and am able to see him at 10:15. He charges me fifty bucks to tell me my tooth is fucked up and that I can either get a root canal then have the tooth filled and crowned, or just get it yanked. Oh, and by the way, saving the tooth will cost about two grand.

Given my deliriousness from lack of sleep, I am flatly dumbfounded by this breaking news. I tell him I'd have to suss out what my financial options were, and head to a local pharmacy to pick up the codeine-laced Tylenols and antibiotics he'd prescribes.

I get home and call the insurance company that deals with my office's dental plan, to make sure I'm covered - better safe than sorry. This is my name, this is my birth date, this is all my contact information. No, you don't have me on file?

So I call my office and get the number of a woman two provinces away who deals with this stuff, in Edmonton. She tells me I'm totally covered, and here's the two numbers you need to tell the insurance company.

I call the insurance company, and they tell me the numbers don't add up to nothin'.

I call the lady back and she repeats the exact same numbers to me.

I call the insurance company again - speak to a third person - but this guy tells me that he knows what plan I'm talking about, confirms the government agency I work for and explains that our plan isn't identified just by a series of digits; it starts with a three-letter code the lady in Edmonton forgot to mention. Yes, I am covered. No, he can't tell me precisely what I'm covered for - for some reason they can only start figuring that out at the very moment you need their help, and they aren't able to give you an answer to your question when you ask it. You have to wait a week or so.

Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

Long story short, a root canal is covered. Step one. I call the dentist back at 12:06, and get a voice mail message telling me they close up shop at 12:00 on Fridays.

I hit up Google Maps again and click the next-nearest tag. The woman who answers seems to have nothing to do with any dentistry, but suggests I try a certain guy in the building who specializes in root canals.

The root canal alone, it turns out, will cost about twelve hundred dollars.

So I get a root canal done - or, judging by the prices I was quoted, one-third of one. It was an entirely painless procedure performed by an affable Scottish fellow - and the super-nice and sharp receptionist in this dentist's office tells me that Tylenol Extra Strength and T3s are worthless for tooth pain. Apparently I should only be using Advil, because ibuprofen is an anti-inflammatory and that's what causes the nerve pain when your teeth hurt.

So, yeah. That - not so briefly - is why I've been up for thirty-four hours straight and all you got today was this and the Shank teaser post. This is why I haven't actually done a write-up on X-COM: Enemy Unknown...

...which actually sounds pretty damn cool, if you take the time to listen to the dev leads chat about it over at Game Informer. These are the guys who basically made all the Sid Meier's strategy games.

Honestly - I've never played X-COM, only heard about it in gamer circles as this legendary franchise - but having those guys explain why it's so special makes me want to play the crap out of it. It's like if Dark Souls was a strategy RPG.

So, yeah - check that out.

And now, I'm going to sleep. Or - perhaps I'll simply suffer deja-vu and be unable to sleep for another thirty hours. Here's hopin' the ibuprofen works once the freezing agent he shot into my jaw wears off.



  1. I, quite literally, know your pain.

  2. I'm just glad I'm getting it dealt with. It's been a painful year.