Pain killer

Finally my tooth is starting to feel more like it's old self. It's taken all week, stuffing myself full of a mixture of Panadol Extra, Ibuprofen (or some drug with 'fen' at the end and bright pink, supplied by Fiona. Thank you. It would seem impossible to gain anything stronger than Panadol over here without a trip to the doctors. Even my dentist only gave me Nurofen, stating 'this will sort out the pain'. Well, no it won't, and didn't) and purple antibiotics. My tooth may have appreciated this (somewhat belatedly) but my stomach certainly hasn't. Grumbling and moping about everytime I present it with food. I almost was unable to eat.... All my dinner.
I'm sitting on the number 14 bus (in a lot of traffic), trying to get to Dhoby Ghaut to meet a friend. I think I'm going to be late. I shouldn't be surprised at the traffic as, of course, there are roadworks involved. Judging by the aggressive tactics, Captain bus driver is employing, I'm not the only one whose late! It's the first time I've taken this bus and frankly I have no idea where I am. Still all part of the adventure. I'll know where I am when I get there. Assuming, of course, that I get my nose out of my mobile and stop blogging. Look up. No still don't recognise it. Handily I've just had a text from Claire who I'm meeting. Sure is also stuck in traffic. Probably just behind me. But she has no aircon! This probably means she's paying less for her journey as the bus tariffs seem to not only depend on the length of journey but also the luxuriousness of your ride (which is all relative by the way). Look up. Am I on the right bus here? Ah, here's my stop. Quick!

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Reality

A little dose of, 'yes, we really are living here', yesterday. After manfully suffering toothache over the long weekend I was finally able to pay my first visit to the dentist. I dull pain on Friday had by Sunday, turned into  excruciating agony. Chewing on the softest of noodles was a real effort and on Monday I took one chomp too many and nearly hit the ceiling! This was after I had booked my emergency appointment. Not too bright sometimes. On arrival after a little consultation and an x-ray (hyperlinked because we all know what it is, but do we really?), it was discovered that my crowned tooth had not one but two infected roots. So I was popped next door to see the root canal specialist (yes, that kind of dentists practice). "Ooh, both roots, that pretty unusual", gee thanks, that makes me feel better. "Go an book yourself in with the PA so we can drill them out and clean them up". Bleugh!
And five minutes later I was dealing with not only the pain in my mouth but the projected pain in my wallet when I discovered what this torture was likely to cost. I may well have to sell another part of my anatomy to save the part that needs the work!
Oh well, needs must. I'm back there next Tuesday for some drillin' and scrapin' and until then I'm on the drugs and painkillers. Yum....