Okay. Monday, 8:30 the nerve comes out, either via root canal or extraction, and the very nice lady apologized profusely for not being able to get me in today, but evidentally there were eight other emergencies already. Bad day for teeth. If there’s any swelling or discharge, I call and get a prescription for penicillin. 800 mg of ibufrofen every few hours (Christ, good thing I don’t drink, that’s gotta be rough on my kidneys/liver/whatever.) and while they can’t prescribe painkillers without seeing me first, I’ll probably be Vicodin-ing it up in the evenings from my private stash–doesn’t do jack for the pain, but at least I can sleep through it.

Four days. Can I handle four days of excruciating pain? (No, but hopefully it won’t be quite so excruciating the whole time–last time, I was in agony for a day and a half, and then suddenly fine. This time is rather worse, but I still hold out hope for waking up tomorrow morning going “Hey! I feel fine!”) And it can’t be worse than the car trip, because I have hot packs, cold packs, home remedies, and vastly more important, the computer and books to distract myself from, y’know, agony.

I have the dentist’s cel number, so if I just can’t take any more, I can call him and…um…whine, I suppose.

Four days. Whew. Oh, well, builds character.

It’s weird to find myself really REALLY wanting to go to the dentist.