Feb. 8 - Lacuna in Posso's Prompts

Lacuna (n:) an unfilled space or interval; a gap. a missing portion in a book or manuscript, a cavity or depression, especially in bone.

You’d think after having testicular cancer that I’d either catch some life breaks or you know, take care of myself a little better also, right? Thanks to the radiation, I had no clue that I had a very cracked and infected molar on the bottom left side of my mouth. The first I noticed it, my gumline had swollen and it felt like there was a large zit, except on the inside of my mouth. 24 hours later, I was having trouble talking and swallowing and I was supposed to be working a shift at Capitol TapHaus bartending, but no one could understand the words coming out of my mouth. Why didn’t I go in and get it checked out? My insurance changed and at this point I wasn’t covered. Not the best for someone still getting regular checkups for cancer…yeah I know. I heard a lot from everyone. Obviously, I’d go back and change it along with many of the other stupid things I have done.

Solid food wasn’t an option, chewing was impossible. The cooks at the taphaus made soup for me, couldn’t even slurp that. For three days all I consumed was mashed potatoes and mac and cheese from KFC. Finally, after two sleepless nights and sitting up straight cause I couldn’t breathe, I decided I should drive myself to the emergency room at 4am. Meriter doctors tried to save me, filleted my gum line back and sucked up some infection and sent me home.

Four days later, my throat was swollen to the size of a softball, I could not see out of my left eye and I honestly thought I was going to die from some infection. Those following days were some of the roughest ever, and if anyone knows my health history, I have not had a great five or six years. They put me under to stick a scalpel in the back of my throat to cut open the infection and suck it out. People talk about life altering visions and experiences under anesthesia but I shit you not, all I remember is looking over my body and seeing my parents (who weren’t there), Heather, (also, not there) and Hiram (yes, all not there) and telling them I loved them and I was finally going to sleep well. When I woke up, I remember laughing and getting yelled at for talking as my mouth and nose were gushing blood. Medication was heavily injected and for about four days I thought I wouldn’t be able to chew, swallow, talk, sing in a falsetto ever again. Friends, girlfriends, family all came and checked on me and I brushed off and sugar coated the situation: I narrowly avoid sepsis and quite easily death by not wanting to pay more money out of pocket because I had already owed so much on my last major medical issue.

After all was said and done, I got assisted medical care to cover some of the cost, but 5 extracted teeth and half a missing bottom jaw later, I survived that too. There might be a lacuna in my jaw but I still have been able to do everything I was scared not to do and even though chewing is difficult and speaking clearly is hard (even though I enjoy the mumble) it takes simple thoughts and even a picture (you can see the structural damage from the infection in my face when I smile, at least I notice, my left eye gets all wonky and scrunched up when I smile) to realize that health care shouldn’t be something that’s life or death and that if I have survived this much shit from my body at this point, I’d be stupid to stop fighting.