Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Chronicle of a toothache

I woke early this morning with my jaw hurting, but I managed to doze on and off until 9:30. Once I got up and moving, the jaw--and I--felt better. I kept checking the mirror, trying to see if the swelling had gone down, because the dentist was concerned about it. Tonight I can say it may not have gone down, but it hasn't gotten worse.
The trouble with feeling rotten is you look around  your house and see things that really must be done but don't have the oomph to do them--I made myself do a laundry, freeze the chicken I'm not going to serve to company tomorrow (after I made such a fuss at the butcher counter about "Has this chicken ever been frozen?), and several other small chores. Tonight I put out fresh bird seed, cleaned the back yard, took the garbage carts down to the curb, and watered the porch plants.
Eating is no fun because it hurts to open my mouth (that should make the root canal really pleasant!). Breakfast: a bit of cottage cheese; lunch: cream of chicken soup--okay, it had wheat flour in it but who cares about gluten at this point? dinner: a deviled egg (pretty good), a small bit of hummus, and a banana. Maybe I'll lose weight.
People are quick to tell me their stories--from horror to "piece of cake." My neighbor/yard guy came by for the few figs I'd picked and said he'd rather have open heart surgery again--but he was talking about the pain before the root canal not the procedure, and I, knock on wood, seem to be lucky in that respect. Jean Walbridge described the procedure as "tedious" and said to take my iPod (she should know I don't have one) but I'll take the Kindle for those periods when everyone disappears. Chloe Webb said she had a lot more luck with root canals than losing weight, even though hers was complicated and her dentist finally gave up and sent her to an endodontist--now there's a cheery thought.
Late last night and early this morning I cancelled the world for today and tomorrow--had lunch and dinner plans both days and just said, "Sorry, I can't do that." Met with complete understanding. Sometimes, faced with a day at home, I long to go do something, but today it came with a sense of peace. I spent a lot of time on emails this morning--being on three listserves for Sisters in Crime is time-consuming, and I wonder how some of those ladies write, but I compulsively read each post or at least glance at it. Janet Evanovich's request for a $50 million advance from St. Martin's for four books and subsequent jumping ship to Random has been a big topic. But this aftrnoon I got some good (I hope--have to reread) writing done on the section on Wolf Brand Chili in my nonfiction book. Then a nap, though I slept neither as soundly nor as long as I expected.
Thursday is a big puzzle to me. My appointment has been moved to 9:30, which I view as a good thing. Because when I know I'm facing something like this, I get nervous, Betty has agreed to take me and Jean will pick me up. I plan to come home, have a long nap, and then my writing class meets at my house. Elizabeth agreed to lead it, though she also offered to cancel it. I said that wasn't necessary. Then I realized I'd agreed to provide refreshments--I have hummus and crackers, and some bourbon hot dogs in the freezer. I thought the kids would want them this weekend but they don't, so I'd just as soon get rid of them. And if I don't feel up to having a houseful of women, I'll simply retreat to my bedroom and close the door. I think it will be fine.
Then comes Friday--when I have to begin to catch up with my lost week, do some shopping, get ready for Jacob that night and to go to Frisco first thing in the morning. Sometimes I think life doesn't leave you long recovery breaks, but I'm guess I'm having mine today and tomorrow.
In spite of the slight nagging in my jaw and the apprehension about Thursday, life is good. I guess I'm making lemonade.

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