greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

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The Ballad of the Epic Extraction

I don't feel quite as bad today as I did when I finally got to sleep sometime after four ayem this morning. The only pain killer I seem to need right now is Advil, which is a switch. More than anything, I am weak, woozy. I spent twenty-two of the last twenty-four hours in bed, which seems incredible. I slept almost eight of those.

The extraction took longer than expected. Spooky, who was out in the waiting room, heard a nurse refer to it as "the epic extraction." Sounds like a Lemony Snicket book, doesn't it? Anyway, root broke off and had to be cut out. And no, I wasn't allowed to keep the tooth (not that there was much left of it), but, afterwards, my dentist's assistant allowed me to hold it and get a good look at it.

I do adore my dentist, Dr. Rubenstein. He calls me "kiddo."

I think, more than anything, I'm starving. I've subsisted on room-temperature Campbell's cream of potato soup and Jell-O pudding cups since the surgery. Tonight I hope to be up to mashed potatoes. Maybe sag paneer by tomorrow. Spooky has it in her head I'll be drinking protein shakes today and taking vitamins, which means I probably will be doing just that.

There's a huge crater on the upper right side of my mouth, filled with something that looks my cranberry sauce. The clot.

I'd hoped to sleep much of yesterday, but I couldn't. Spooky read to me. We watched an amazingly bizarre Korean horror film (the name escapes me). Then we watched nine consecutive episodes of Jericho. I'd never watched the series before. We started at the beginning. It gets a lot better by the ninth episode, but it's still rather bland, blandly written and acted, chock full of bland actors, and you could fill a library with the bad science and plot holes. And it tries far too hard to find something uplifting about nuclear terrorism.

There's another snowstorm on the way. I really could have done without that news. It should reach us tomorrow evening. We still have snow on the ground from the storm that hit on New Year's Eve.

I hope to be writing again by Monday, at the very latest.

Er...I think I'm sicker than I thought. Spooky just called me "Puffin MacMuffin," and that's got to be an hallucination.
Tags: lost days, sick, snow, television, winter
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