Pity me, and wince. I had a tooth extracted yesterday.
Not just any tooth, mind, but a great big maxillary molar. Yep, one of the biggest in yer gob, as they say round here, a thumping great three-rooter. I know it had three roots - I saw them after my lovely dentist wrenched them out.
And talk about a woman's hidden strength! My dentist is a five-foot nuthin' slim and graceful Indian lady who looks like she couldn't lift a sledgehammer, let alone knock anything over with one. Strength is truly best when it's internal, I'm telling you....!
I truly didn't feel a thing, not after the two injections anyway. I'd go as far as to say it was almost a pleasant experience. I said, ALMOST! I blotted out as much as I could with some visualisation - something I've never had much luck with but yesterday it worked perfectly. I was THERE, I tell you, by that Italian poolside with the sun on my skin, the breeze in my hair and the Prosecco bubbles up my nose. Worked a treat.
I can't chew, yet. I had mashed potatoes for yesterday's dinner, and could manage only a little. Tinned cream of mushroom soup for lunch today - we are not talking the epitome of gastronomy. Then again, this should give a boost to my diet programme - I'm aiming to drop a dress size and get a little fitter for my September visit to a REAL Italian poolside. Watch this space!
The only downside is, I can't have my 6pm snifter for seven days! i miss my pre-dinner glass of wine so much, but the antibiotics I'm on won't allow it. So, I'm looking to the silver lining and thinking of that particular sacrifice as yet more calories gone unconsumed.
But I can dream.....the thought of a piping hot cuppa and a large sticky bun haunts me. That, or a bowl of Bombay mix. Not something you'd want to get stuck in your stitches, though. Ew....
I can't remember the last time I ever ate so little over 48 hours!
It's doing me good, it's doing me good. Honest it is!