When It Rains

...it pours.  Such a fitting saying around here.

Don't mind me.  I'm just a tad bit miserable.  

I have a toothache.

It never fails.  Being extremely stressed always makes me sick in one way or another.  My body just can't handle it.  It needs an outlet.  Unfortunately it's usually a painful one.  

It started out of nowhere Tuesday evening while I was on the phone with my mom.  Six hours later I was wide awake and ransacking the medicine cabinet at three in the morning.  My gums were swollen, my tooth was throbbing, and it was immediately apparent that antibiotics would be necessary.  

Thankfully Punky's dad is terribly irresponsible when it comes to finishing prescription medicine.  I found half a bottle of Cipro leftover from an infection he had earlier this summer.  After quickly consulting the web to make sure it wouldn't kill me or anything, I took one pill and followed it up with a Motrin chaser.  By the time I finally fell back to sleep (at almost six), it already felt much better.

The next night went about the same only I made it till almost four before excruciating pain yanked me out of a dead sleep.  Since then I've been on a steady diet of drugs.  Some how, some way, I need to make it until next Friday.  I already have a planned dentist appointment scheduled for that day and I'm determined to make it.  Given that I still see a dentist at home, two hours away, scheduling an appointment sooner would cause me to miss another whole day of work and that's not an option right now.  So, I'm just dealing with it.  

But I am awfully cranky.  Tooth pain is the worst pain in the world.  When I was pregnant and worried about labor and delivery, my mom told me, "Don't get me wrong, it hurts.  But it's not as bad as your worst toothache.  That much I can say."  

And she was absolutely right.  I'd gladly swap this tooth pain for contractions.  Chances are they would be over long before next Friday.