Owie.

I like to think that I'm not a whiner. Most of the time, I'm not. Sure, I bitch about stuff--my boss, the traffic, idiot world leaders--but I try not to whine.

I had endodontic surgery yesterday. Why? I had a root canal about 7 years ago and the quack dentist didn't fill the gap the way it should have been filled and that left a route for germs to get into the root and bother me. It's been bothering me off and on since then, but the dentists I've seen just shrug it off. Not this time. My present dentist finally referred me to an endodontist, a dentist who deals with this sort of problem, and she recommended this surgery (short, out-patient, local anesthetic only).

In the surgery, they cut open the gum and bust through the bone so they can get to the space by the root. They dig out any bad things, re-fill the space, and sew you back up. I couldn't help but think about the Nazi-led medical experiments. Actually, I think about those during most dental visits and while giving birth. Thank god for medical science. I didn't feel a thing and, from the looks of things and the feel of extreme pressure as she stabbed and scraped and drilled, I was so, so thankful for that.

It's when the drugs wore off that the problem set in.

Holy shit! It hurt. Real bad. I didn't think I would need the prescribed Tylenol 3, as the doctist said "it will be uncomfortable...", but I was soon whining to Kevin to run to town and get my meds NOW. I was cranky, the pain distorted my normally stunning yet wholesome good looks, and so I sat, as motionless as possible, watching a whimsical French film with the volume low.

Two Tylenol 3's didn't do enough for the pain. It took 3 to give me the courage to try to sleep, which I did, when Marky wasn't crying as loudly as any baby has ever cried.

So now I'm here at work only because I have a Big. Important. Meeting. and you all know how I feel about those. I'll go, and then go home.

Wah! But it does feel better. It had better work!