Don’t Tell Me, We Don’t Know How To Have A Good Time

An amalgam used as a restorative material in a...

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It was a big Friday night at our place.

My tooth cracked off and I swallowed the portion with a silver filling in it. Silver fillings are full of mercury, highly toxic (and not recommended to have rolling around in your body, or a host of side effects will result). Essentially, you want that crap out.

I needed to induce vomiting to get it up, or head to the closest hospital to have my stomach pumped…I chose to do the former.

I drank a full glass of warm water with 1 & 1/4 tablespoons of salt dissolved in it. In case you have this listed as things-to-try-one-day-just-because, let me suggest that you cross it off the list. Its foul and as far as I can tell, almost always unnecessary.

Imagine seawater mixed with something that causes instant heartburn, a little sour milk thrown in for good measure (to help with the vomiting reflex), and that pretty much sums it up. It took me a few minutes, but I finally got it all down with a few ‘mini-upchucks’ in between.

My expert husband then gave me specific steps on how to shove your own fingers down your throat “the way the bulimic’s do” (his words), to get the salt-water mix – along with the filling – up in one huge, monstrous, vomitous action. (If you’re thinking ‘vomitous’ is not a real word, it is now – I just coined it.)

C’mon I’ve done this many times, if it’s not working, you aren’t pushing your fingers down far enough, just shove them down further;” he egged me on.  (I’m assuming he knows this from his many mornings of hangovers he tried to alleviate in this way during his former party years.)

How anyone can be bulimic is beyond me (no disrespect to all the bulimic’s out there), it was the most hideous experience of my life. But all credit to him, his instructions worked perfectly.

Taking the title (momentarily) as ‘Best Husband in the World’, he pulled on the rubber gloves and searched all of the er…contents, to make sure the filling came up. (He says I won’t be getting an anniversary gift this year, working through my puke was the gift, and surely evidence enough of his love.)

Finally, he founded the partial tooth, sans silver-mercury-laden-filling! What the hell?!?

We found out later from a doctor that the whole procedure was all in vain. Mercury is so heavy, you actually have to have your stomach pumped to get it out, there’s no way the action of vomiting by itself will do the job.

Good to know.

Essentially there was a 50/50 chance that I would make the right decision when it came to getting one of the most toxic substances in the world out of my system, and when it came to crunch time, I chose the wrong one. (Just another reason I don’t gamble, the gods are almost always universally against me.)

In the end, given the mercury was not yet out of my system, a detox procedure is in place, so it will no doubt be a fun few days at our place this week. That’s right, the party continues!

Don’t tell me we don’t know how to have a good time in our household, people!

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8 thoughts on “Don’t Tell Me, We Don’t Know How To Have A Good Time

  1. Carrie says:

    Oh. My. God.

    First thing that comes to mind is “are you kidding me?!?” But hell, you can’t make that stuff up!

    I had NO CLUE about the filling stuff. If that would have happened to me, I would have just shrugged it off and figured it’ll eventually pass.

    I am not believing this!

    Don’t feel alone though…we have the same bum luck. I will pick the wrong choice EVERY single time.

    You at least made ONE right choice in life though. You found a man who would dig through your puke. Sweet mother…he has got to be a gem!!

    I certainly hope things smooth out…but for sure, keep us posted!!


    • In the interests of full-disclosure, I probably should have prefaced the post by saying that I did the exact same thing when I was pregnant with my son. He was born 12 week prematurely, small for gestational age (1lb 11 ounces) and very, very ill (not all due to the mercury of course) But, amongst other things he had mercury poisoning – so I’m all over the mercury issue, I know so much about it I could write a book, so I wasn’t playing around when it happened again.

      And yes, with all these fillings falling out all over the place and chipping my teeth off with them, I AM in the process of having them removed and replaced with composite fillings (no mercury). Apparently I just helped myself along the process with this one! I know, its so insane, I COULDN’T make it up. And my husband will be telling the story (with him as the hero of course) for weeks…


  2. Your husband is a saint, though it’s odd he knew the exact way to cause someone to barf. I will remember that the next time I don’t like my dinner. You’re lucky he was around to coach you. Such an strange thing that happened. Can’t wait to hear what else you have to do to detox. Will he provide the same service when it comes out the other way? How many gifts will he get out of for providing that service?

    Hang in there. Tooth problems are the worse. I just had one pulled and I miss it.


    • My husband was a saint momentarily to make up for all the times he is NOT a saint! (Like Bill Cosby famously said; “He’s an old person, trying to get into heaven now…”) I suspect his barfing expertise was a part of his checkered past, one that I don’t want to know anymore about than I already do 😉 As for his ‘services’ – he is most certainly done. He hasn’t stopped telling people what he did for me, though he makes it sound more like he stepped in front of a moving train or something – men! I will keep you duly informed on the progress, so far sounds a lot less dramatic than my Friday night, thank goodness!


  3. That is awful! I hope you are ok. Your husband is quite the trooper to do that for you. Keep us posted.


    • My husband once told me “If all this shit didn’t happen to you, you’d have nothing to write about.” Its true, but I’d prefer a little less unpleasantness! Thankfully, detox seems much less dramatic! 🙂


  4. JWo says:

    My wife ran out of the bedroom this morning when our bulldog puked. While I think she’d enjoy the trying-to-make-me puke part, it’s the searching for treasure part she’d have a problem with.


    • ha! I think most women would relish a little of watching their men puke – and of course, my husband is among those women, standing proud! As for the ‘treasure’, he was not happy. Given I was splayed out on the couch looking like death, he knew the job would come down to him – and I think he began to envision the admiration he would receive from the public when he let them all know what a hero he was. 10 days later, he’s still milking it for all its worth.

      A decent trade? Not to me, but who knows what goes on in that head of his!!


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