Good thing my dentist had me on headphones watching The Devil Wears Prada. Still, it was hard to concentrate, what with the sound of the drill and the constant shower of blood, saliva and shards of teeth sprinkling out of my gaping-wide traumatized mouth. God knows how much of that was on my poor dentist's face. Ugh.
I don't think I'll ever want to be a dentist. Ever. In my lifetime or the next.
Which brings me forward two days, at home, on bedrest. Half my face is swollen, and the toothache is a killer. I'm told these are signs of healing. Funny. Did I mention that when I'm better I'm supposed to go back to have my other third molar operated on?
The only upside to my anguish is that my current diet consists of ice cream and all things cold. Yay! The very things I'm supposed to avoiding in my normal diet. Bebs got me a gallon of FIC Sugarfree Mangoes & Cream... and expressed his commiseration by finishing it. Hmm.
He owes me another gallon.
Meanwhile, check this out: Visual DNA kuno. I do like how it got me. (Thanks to Patsy for the link).
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