Throb, throb, throb...Well I went to the dentist yesterday for an emergency appointment. I had a 5 fillings last Tuesday and an excavation in preparation for root canal treatment. That tooth got infected over the week-end so I was prescribed antibiotics yesterday for a week. The dentist can only do root canal treatment once the infection has completely cleared!
I have been off work, but am going to try and go in today as we are short-staffed.
I am going to go off-line for a few days until I am feeling better. I know one person who can relate to every "throb" I am experiencing.
Meanwhile, I will leave you with my "at the dentist" poem.
Take care and will see you all soon. Throb, throb, throb.
Decay
There is a drought of saliva, in my desert baked throat.
A masked man looms in pristine starched coat.
Collars and cuffs snapped off.
A tray of torturous tools balance on my chest.
Expand in size with each frantic exhalation of arid breath.
Vocal chords shrivel and wither.
Putrid aromas penetrate my nostrils.
They twitch with recognition.
No shade for my eyes.
They burn beneath the blinding bulbs.
A wave of neuralgia crashes over me.
My jaw is stretched to the hilt.
Prised open like a stubborn clam.
The hinges ache with awkwardness.
A pool of spittle stifles a scream.
A writhing needle burrows into my gum.
The corkscrew drill assaults my oral space.
Decay is disposed of.
The nerve exposed, twitching, alive.
Shards of amalgam rebound from the
roof of my mouth.
An ice cold jacuzzi froths on my tongue,
like a sour sorbet.
I swallow grit and dribble debris.
© Ellen Johns 2004
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