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Friday, February 01, 2002

The joy of not being in pain is something you only really appreciate when you have an awful toothache. It had me lying awake in the dark for a crawling four hours last night, trying not to cry , whimpering quietly like a wounded puppy, clutching a soft cloth to my jaw and turning endlessly to find relief. It was not anywhere to be found. Nothing in the home medicine cabinet had any effect. By three a.m. I could not hold out any longer. I dressed through a clenched face; drove, on autopilot, through the snow along the empty streets to Accident and Emergency at Hope Hospital. I was hurting too much to drive fast.

Ten minutes in and out of a casualty department must be some kind of national record. It is a sort of local tradition to spend a few hours in A&E with a friend after the clubs turn out early Saturday morning. Hospital waiting rooms are usually full with drink related casualties then. I must have got in before rush hour; just two alcoholically affable, dressed-to-kill Friday night girls, smiling at me sympathetically, one with a minor nightclub gash to her calf. The electronic information board rolled out its usual message; two to three hours wait to see a doctor. Mercifully, it wasn?t long before I was mumbling gratitude, through my security cloth, to a friendly male nurse in blue fatigues handing me a cocktail of painkillers and making my way home.

I frantically popped the tablets and sat at the kitchen table, swilling coffees, smoking, and praying for them to kick in, sometimes getting to my feet and resting my face on anything soft for relief . An hour later completely unbearable had turned to unbearable. Trust me. The word painkiller is a misnomer where toothache is concerned. An alcoholic stupor or a general anesthetic are the only sure-fire analgesics when you teeth rebel like this in your jaw.

Another long hour later, the ache got to bearable status, but it wasn?t long before I felt it start to flare up my face again. I was happy to risk the side effects of a premature half dose, reasoning that dizziness and throwing up was a small price to pay for making it through the time warp. The three goldfish stared ; their air pump hummed. The second hand on the kitchen clock marked time loudly in a mocking beat. I estimated another fourteen thousand ticks before the emergency weekend dental clinic opened. I hit my bed again, finally comfortable, just before dawn. I never made it to the clinic. I was enjoying being able to sleep too much.

johncoxon 5:30 AM - [Link] - Comments ()

john/Male/51-55. Lives in United Kingdom/Engalnd/Salford, speaks English and French. Eye color is brown. I am what my mother calls unique. I am also creative. My interests are photgraphy/local history.
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United Kingdom, Engalnd, Salford, English, French, john, Male, 51-55, photgraphy, local history.