After promising myself to start my blog in earnest I have sadly failed. The reason, I am sure you all want to know, is that I have had a massive abscess in my gob. Now I have issues with my wisdom teeth, if I ever whinge at you about that please remind me of this. I can honestly say that I haven’t experienced anything this level of painful. Mr. B looked at me on Wednesday and simply said ‘Oh baby’ and look horrified, I looked like a bloody hamster.
Today is day two of Abscess Agony. I have thankfully been to the NHS drop in dentist and have to say (I simply hate dentists) that it was a relatively painless visit. I am now on FOUR BLOODY antibiotics, I now rattle as I walk, no it’s the pills not the lose screws. It hasn’t stopped swelling but it’s nicely numb from something they did so I can speak again; I think some ‘unnamed’ people have enjoyed this bout of silence.
Silence was something that sadly, in my major night of agony last night, was lacking in the local area. Where was this noise coming from? Down-bloody-stairs! The other day Mr. B told me that a man with a pit bull was going downstairs into the flat. I had a few moments of rejoicing that the other buggers had gone, and then the concern regarding the pit bull hit me. Sorry I just don’t like those sorts of dogs, I am a cat person anyway. It then started to get noisier downstairs over the next week. Now after being recently bereaved sleep has not been my major forte of late. These buggers talk (so loudly) until one, two or three a.m. Can’t bear it!
I got a lovely message/note under the door the other night, it was from the new ‘house sitters’ downstairs (double bugger) about their little Halloween Party they were going to have. It would only be until 1am or 2am, they understood that I might be at work and was welcome to come ‘in strictly fancy dress’. Well at 6am after a fight some smashed glass several of the neighbours banging on my bloody wall and a crazed dog running around Mr. B decided to phone the police… that did the trick. Sadly I now feel funking knackered and when you’re sick you feel whacked out enough. Least there was a bit of drama, everyone knows how I love that.
So now I am back from the dentists, contemplating the joys of going in the office tomorrow. I had a chat with Gran tonight (she is doing so bloody well) and we’ve just discussed dentists and how it must be a really horrid job working when you know none of your clients actually want to come and see you. That put things into perspective a bit, or it would if dentists didn’t cost the sodding earth and rake in money from others pain… no I don’t feel sorry for them any longer!
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