People often describe a painful process (an unpleasant meeting, a dreaded confrontation) as "a trip to the dentist."
This morning, I'm looking forward to a trip to the dentist, actually--if I can find one with (a) Saturday hours and (b) a free appointment slot. Added difficulty bonus - there's a blizzard slated to arrive later this afternoon, so all this has to happen before the snow flies!
I broke a tooth yesterday afternoon. My lower left first biscuspid, to be precise (the one that sits right behind the canine tooth.) I have no idea how I did it, but may I just say, ow. Ow, ow, ow. Much/most of it is gone, and I don't know whether what's left is even enough to slap a crown on; it may have to be a simple extraction at this point.
Ibuprofen and the judicious application of Orajel kept me from keeping the neighbors awake last night with unseemly screaming, but something really does have to be done about this. So blogging is likely to be light today, as I have my mouth excavated and my wallet lightened.
Update, 8:50 AM - New York, New York, it's a hell of a town - got an appointment with an emergency dentist at 10 AM. He even takes my insurance.
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