For the first time in eight days I am officially pain-free.
I took off this morning at eight o’clock (I’m so pleased with myself for remembering all the number rules) in my husband’s unnecessarily large black pickup truck and drove through snow and sleet to the oral surgeon’s office, where he determined that I have, wait for it…
Oh yes I do. It would have been nice if they had diagnosed this LAST MONDAY when I was in their office instead of letting me suffer for five more days, but all’s well that ends well. After an excruciatingly painful experience where the doctor stuffed my socket with medicated gauze (are you gagging on your PB&J already?), I went on my merry way with another prescription for Vicodin, this time the extra-strength variety.
By the time I got home with my new prescription, my mouth felt so much better that I didn’t even bother to take the meds. The pain of the last eight days has been replaced with the odoriferous and foul-tasting anesthetic that is contained in the gauze, but I’ll gladly take that trade. Supposedly there are no food restrictions, but I can’t bring myself to eat anything with that nastiness in my mouth. Perhaps I’ll be able to fit into my skinny jeans by Monday.
The kids are home from school, as we have another pitiful excuse for a snowfall. What a disappointing winter this has been! If you look real close, you can see blades of grass poking up through the snow. But the kids don’t care. They are all decked out in their snow gear and are congregating on our back hill with their sleds and saucers.
Looks like fun, huh? If I were a good mom, I’d be out there with the other adults, supervising my kids. But I’m gonna milk this sore wisdom tooth thing for all it’s worth. Besides, I have BUNCO tonight. I need to rest up.
A girl’s gotta have priorities, dontchaknow.