Last Friday morning found me with a bit of soreness in my jaw and a mild earache.
Since I've been known to suffer from nearly year-round allergies and strep throat on occasion I figured "Meh, sinus troubles of some kind." By Sunday it was pretty clear that the trouble was either The World's Worst Sinus Infection or a tooth issue.
I would have called to ask someone what they thought, but we had no damn phone service at our house.
|Mom, can't you see that I'm sleeping?|
So, with the tooth pain at a level that called for medical attention or a dangerous mix of over-the-counter remedies we decided to drive the couple of miles from our house to make a phone call.
I called one of my best friends who also happens to be a tooth expert, or as some people might say a "Dental Assistant."
Vishnu love that woman: She talked me down from going to Urgent Care and begging for marijuana or heroin or whatever it is they prescribe these days for pain.
Instead I settled in at home with a fistful of ibuprofen, lots of mushy food and waited for Holiday Monday to turn into Dental Office Open Tuesday
During these activities we had another problem arise. The worst problem of all. The Worst.
Probably we could have caught things earlier, making them Not Quite As Bad, if we hadn't been so wrapped up in being pissed off that we had no phone and no helpful input from the service provider. Or if I hadn't been whining about my fucking tooth.
If not for those things, maybe we wouldn't have The Worst: A dear sweet ferret who we've had since she was only five weeks old is very probably very, very sick. Not going to be with us much longer very sick.
Our house is no longer a phone service dead zone, Tuesday afternoon I received a bottle of pharmaceutical pain killers and I'm now throwing a pail of wishes to the stars that an appointment for tooth fixing on Thursday turns out to be the worst thing next week.
Because if that's the worst thing ... it means our dear little fuzzbutt is OK and once again the undisputed Ruler Of The House.
UPDATE: Between the time I wrote this post and 3 a.m. this morning our little fuzzy named Sparky went to join her brother Finn who passed away last year. It's sad for us, but they're probably happy to be together again ... he loved cuddling her and she loved dancing on his head.