Toward the end of the evening Karl took a bite out of one of the empanadas that Steph had ordered and that he'd been coveting all evening and had a tooth break. At first he thought it was just a chip, but by the time we were in the safeway getting some oragel for him until he could get to the dentist, it was pretty clear that just the jagged edge digging into his cheek was going to be a problem.
We were recommended a place to call the next morning for an emergency appointment, but they don't take new patients as emergency, so we were left with the phone book. After some calling around we found a place that could taking him within an hour of the time we called.
He went, thinking that they might rebuild the tooth and do some finger wagging at him about not having been to the dentist in so long. He called when he was done, mouth full of gauze to let me know he's broken a wisdom tooth, so they'd decided just to pull it and he was on his way to the store to pick up his anti-biotics and his percocet.
Bleeding for several hours and unable to eat anything that wasn't pudding consistency or liquid = bad
having it pulled instead of cut out, thus avoiding stitches = good
Percocet = good
Only 7 percocet total = bastards
At some point today, when he's more awake and wants food (and it's been the full 24 hours so he's allowed to eat), we'll get him a nice soft Five Guys hamburger.