I feel cheated. These past few days were supposed to be filled with endless evening knitting, as my children enjoyed the joys of farm life for four days (they come back tomorrow). But my mouth had to take this opportunity to go all foul on me.
Late last week a filling that I had replaced in June (lost half of it while on my work trip to Atlanta) decided it should start to abscess at the beach. That's right, on Thursday cool beach air sent me to depths of insanity I had never felt before. When we got home that night (thankfully this happened at the end of the trip), it started to throb.
Anyone familiar with the movie version of Frank Herbert's Dune? Picture Paul Atreides with his hand in the box. I had my tooth in that box for four days. I couldn't head to the dentist on Friday because it was Oldest Son's birthday and we took him out for the day. Saturday things felt only slightly better, but Advil really helped. On Sunday, nothing helped. But I had to trudge on, and take my children to my family reunion on the Eastern Shore and then fight three and a half hours of beach traffic for a trip that only takes 90 minutes on a good day. Pain abated long enough to fall asleep, only to wake up in absolute AGONY at 4 a.m. Saw the dentist right when she opened and then I had the pleasure of experiencing a first in my life.
A root canal.
Now it's my understanding that root canals have a bad rap. So I was naturally apprehensive. Tons of little files scraping my tooth's innards for the sole purpose of making way for a dental death ray in there? Ick. But again, I was a trooper and had it done. Went to work afterward, even.
The good news is that my tooth feels better. I'm taking a gnarly antibiotic (the tooth, apparently, was really gross) so I'm not worried about infection. My problem? Where I had to get the needles -- right where my gum meets my cheek. I look like I had a wisdom tooth extracted, all swollen and puffy. This is why I do not like having dental work done. Those damn post-operative injection sites in my little mouth really hurt. The tooth? Well, it feels a little weird, packed and all, but no real pain. Where I got a slew of needles? Raw and sore and begging for relief ... which nothing seems to be giving. But I go on to work today.
And so my knitting has suffered for the past three days. Fortunately, the ponchette is easy, steady and without charts. I can nearly do it with my eyeballs closed. Being so easy and not having to think, I'm done all but the last two or three points, which I hope to finish today in time for blocking tomorrow. As long as my mouth doesn't get any worse I can probably do it. Then all I have to do is seam it up.
I just have to get my mouth to agree with the plan.
Since there are no knitting pictures, here's one from the beach:
TYS had a great fascination with the sea this year. I caught a glimpse of him doing this from far up the beach and rushed to photograph. He was showing this seaweed to his father, but methinks he looks a bit like Perseus holding up the head of Medusa to turn the Krackin to stone.