I happened to be back at the dentist yesterday and the poor state of my poor mouth is rather taking up all the emotional space in my life. I am now on an antibiotic with all kinds of warning labels all over it and I have a tiny special paper explaining where and at what time I am expected to present myself to the Very Special Person who does Root Canals.
'There is life after a root canal,' said my dentist yesterday, 'the name sounds worse than it is.'
'Indeed,' said I, in pain, 'it sounds medieval.'
But at this point I welcome the whole experience if it will really solve the problem.
But also, I was knocked back by the first rather strong antibiotic and so this new one makes me feel even more like everything, good and bad, is being destroyed in my already run down system.
Nevertheless, I will now arise and do school and make breakfast and do laundry. And I will do it all without barely speaking because that is too painful for anything.