After that, the only thing I’ll care about is remembering to blink from time to time so my eye balls don’t dry out.
I suppose I can always moisten them with my drool.
It’s been a tough week here and I’m not shamed to admit I’ve had my butt handed to me. Actually, not really “handed to me” as much as thrown at me like a game of Olympic competition dodgeball. Some of you may remember I was the only kid required to wear a helmet when playing dodgeball in middle school.
The week began by getting tapped out at 5:30 a.m. Tuesday morning for the biggest fire Florence has seen in 10 years. An RV storage facility with 30 units caught fire and quickly began spreading. Inside nearly every unit was a full-sized motorcoach, along with propane tanks and other combustables. There were lots of small explosions and, because of the size of the motorhomes, the workable space on each side of them was about two feet in width. Not much room to maneuver, especially with an air tank on your back. We managed to contain things to the first eight units within about 20 minutes. There were still hot spots and active smaller fires for the next hour.
By 9 a.m., things were well under control and the paid staff of the fire department took over for clean-up and overhaul. Besides, I was already late for work at the newspaper… on a deadline day.
When I crawled into bed later that evening — and yes, I literally crawled like that creepy girl from “The Ring” — I was ready for a chance to start my week over again after a good night’s sleep. That’s when my wisdom tooth woke up and decided instead to crank up the base and have a party.
It had been bothering me a little all day, but I hadn’t had time to think about it. Hey, what better time than while laying in the dark and wondering where I put the pliers, and whether wood putty could stop the bleeding if I did my own extraction? I finally resorted to taking some of my wife’s leftover pain meds to get me through the night. When I woke up the next morning and turned to kiss my wife, she screamed. No, not because of my breath, but because it appeared as though I had stuffed a couch cushion into the side of my mouth.
An hour later, I was at the dentist and being told my wisdom tooth needed to come out. I expected this. What I didn’t expect was my dentist’s reaction to the X-rays, which appeared as if he had just seen a sonogram of an alien fetus. “I’m not touching that,” he said. “It’s twisted and we’re not equipped to deal with this here. In fact, I’m going to quit dentistry now because I’m so freaked out. Why did you have to COME HERE!”
Ok, I made most of that last part up. But he did refer me to an oral surgeon. He also gave me anibiotics, some sort of steroid and pain killers.
Lots of pain killers.
And they work rraeleey gooude.
Anyway, I’m on the mend and having my first “normal” and relatively pain-free day this week. The antibiotics have kicked in, I’ve backed off the pain killers, my fire department pager has been quiet, and I’m enjoying my first cup of coffee and solid food since Tuesday.
Thanks for stopping in this week, for your comments and concerns, and — as always — for making this blog more than just words on a screen. See you all next week with a new post on Monday, a sneak peak at a new “Terminator comes to Florence” video short, and the next chapter from “No Safe Harbor” for next Friday’s “Nickel’s Worth On Writing.”
I’m really looking forward to doing the butt-kicking next week…