Waylaid … Again!

I know I have already bored you with the story of getting all my dental work done in order to proceed with the medical stuff.  I have complied…and paid dearly (both monitarily and physically).
Three crowns!  For the price the dentist charges you would think these lovelies would be diamond studded, alas, they are merely white.  What started out as routine has now ended up with a case of the fattest face/neck/jowls no woman in history has yet to sport. 
Here we go …
I went in about three weeks ago to prepare for the crowns, went home and slept off the drugs and awoke to a nagging pain that I was sure had to do with my jaw having been propped open for 2 1/2 hours.  Day two … pain.  day three … more pain.  Day four … what the bleep is happening here?  Excrutiating pain!  and of course, it is Easter weekend!  Downing Lortabs like a true addict, I try to convince myself this is normal.  Finally Saturday morning I make the frantic call to the dentist knowing full well he won’t be in but at least I can leave a message relaying my agonizing plight.  Dropping more Lortabs and chasing them with 3 aspirin (the ultimate no-no with bleeding ulcers), I am able to get some relief.  Easter Sunday, my apologetic dentist calls back … he is out of town … calls in a prescription and says come in on Monday.
"You need a root canal".  Obviously I have never had one of these adventures before so I agree to come back on Tuesday the following week (yes, just this past Tuesday, April 12) and have the "proceedure" of a lifetime.
Tuesday: Drop a Triazalom, sniff some Nitrous and slumber away whilst the Dentist does his thing … only that is NOT what happened.  NOPE.  Turns out that the dentist fit the two crowns first which meant that the Triazalom was weraing off before the root canal was done … So when he started, I FELT THE DRILLING.  Why? you ask … WHY?  Because I was not numbed deep enough.  I FELT THE NERVE BEING DRILLED PEOPLE!  HOLY LORD ALMIGHTY! 
Trying heroically to get me numbed, I am given shot after shot after shot which renders me shaking and nauseous.  He drills…I still feel … He shoots … I still feel … and so it goes.  With tears streaming down my face (and I am sorry to report, snot running out of my nose while I snort, yes snort, while trying to breath through my tears) I am devil-may-care … drilled once more.  With apologies aplenty the proceedure moves forward until, I swear to you this is the truth, I literally pass out from pain! 
When I emerged a few hours later, Mr. Farish stared at my mascara coated face and gently takes my arm as I plead to him to get me out of there and take me home.  Once there, I head straight to my bed…wake a few times to pop more pain pills and sleep some more.
Today is Thursday.  I have missed two days of work.  I am infected, swollen, and have a radiating pain that goes from my ear right down my neck … did  I mention that I am swollen?  My face is so F-A-T that a ‘head shot’ would leave you wondering if I weigh over 200#.  I am afraid to step on the scale for fear that my usual 119 will have soared to 219…all of it face fat!  It hurts to eat, I can’t sleep, and I’ll be dipped if I have to go back in for more torture.  For now, I am taking my antibiotics, dropping Motrin 800’s along with the occassional Lortab and aspirin and playing the wait-and-see.  I hope to feel well enough to go to work in the morning … But most definately will not be trying to pull a shirt over this melon … a nice little buttoned blouse will have to do.

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