Tooth Problems

I have been eating ibuprophen and paracetamol like chocolate all day today. The wisdom tooth that was broken when Phil accidentally hit me with a camp chair has broken in two, connected by something sensitive…the nerve I would assume. :( I am too much of a weenie to just pull the thing, and so I have been living with the pain. (And also talking like I have a speech impediment.) I need to go to the doctor, but with ¬£75 to last until payday, I’m not going to be able to for awhile.

I shouldn’t whine – I know that Phil is in MUCH worse shape than I am. We’re both terrified of the dentist. When I was a kid, we lived in a small mountain town. There was one dentist, and we pretty much had to go to him. Now, as an adult, I would look back and guess that the man was an alcoholic. Possibly a sadist, but most likely a sot. He would slip with the drill and catch our gums and tongues; he would pull teeth before the novocaine took effect. I would become physically ill before a dental appointment…and I still do.

Aggghh. Maybe I can source some heroin or something and I can avoid going for a while longer.

Anyway, as the end to a perfect day, we’d had major system problems. I don’t envy the techs their job. I think I told Nathan once that no one ever notices what they do until something goes wrong.

We’re going to stop by the new house and measure for appliances and furniture (as we need to start acquiring things like cookers and refrigerators as soon as we can afford it); I am going to take pictures at the same time.



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