Monday, 14 May 2012


While writing a mail to Flavia (my Australian friend that lives in Amstelveen with Rob the boyfriend and Basil the cat), I remember a quote by an Italian comedian: "bad luck is an amazing lover, never leaving your side, not even when you're in deep shit."

So imagine what a wonderful lover bad luck can be when things are going right!

Let's get back to the beginning. Last week I got to Milan and started my new job. Overall happy and excited and things looked getting better and better, everything looked promising but the small little pain on one side of my mouth. Did I chew the inside of my cheek? Probably.

Days passed, work proved to be hectic but interesting and kept being really happy about going to the office, but the pain increased just a little bit.

On Wednesday I took a painkiller before going to bed. It didn't really work as I woke up at 2 in the morning in sheer pain. I thought I just needed a stronger painkiller but twenty minutes later I had to hop on a taxi and get to the A&E.

They got me a stronger painkiller and the address of the 24hrs dental emergency that, being an Italian 24hrs emergency service, was running only from 8 in the morning to 8 in the evening.
Still, the painkiller allowed me to sleep for about 3 hours before losing all effect: I dragged myself to the hospital once more and there I was told I had an infection of the gum and that the only possible solution was a root canal. They gave me antibiotics and anti-inflammatory and I managed to sneak in a last minute visit to my dentist on Saturday.

I took the train back on Friday evening: the pain was still there, but more on the background. I got to the central station of Milan and relaxed a little before getting on the train. Right. The "regionale veloce", speedy regional train was obviously overcrowded with people perched about everywhere (yours truly was sitting on the floor outside the main part of the carriage next to the exit), luggage that didn't fit anywhere and air-conditioning not working on the very day that temperature shot over the roof and reached 30°C.

I got back to my parents' place looking and feeling crap. The morning after I woke up with a little more of pain and by the time I got to the dentist I had not even the strength to cry.
Still the director of the clinic wanted me to talk about prices for the cure and other possibility. Look sister, seriously, just knock me out and take this pain away no matter what.

And the dentist did just about that: not immediately, however. First he complemented me on my teeth: "They are quite long, look how deeply rooted into the gum they are!"
"Am  I not lucky, doc? Now please just knock me over with a baseball bat and take care of this tooth, will ya? Pretty please?"

He set to work and had to go through extra rounds of anesthetics (I lost count around injection number 5). At that point I didn't feel any pain at all. Actually that's an understatement: I couldn't feel about 3/4 of my face as it was completely asleep.
My stomach however wasn't as asleep as my face:it seems I just react badly to any antibiotics, so even now that I'm writing, cramps are dancing happily around my abdomen.

My face is still sleeping as I got back for round 2 at the dentist today.
Going back to Milan, I managed to get on yet another delayed train.

But hey, don't think I'm just complaining about the whole thing. Let me go all Pollyanna on you and tell you why at the end it could have been worse: first of all, if this whole root canal ordeal would have happened just one week later I'd be in America and I'd be probably broke with who knows how many thousand dollars bill to set. Or probably with a kidney or part of my liver missing, as I'd have had to sell it to pay the dentist there.

Second, it turns out I got gorgeous fangs, inside & out, not sure how many people can boast around about it: I'm planning to ask my doctor for a copy of my x-ray and frame it.

Third… well the best thing of being at your parents and being ill is that you turn back into a kid: I could watch what I wanted on TV, I got priority on the sofa over my dad, my mum fussed over me… well when she was not busy laughing at the way I spoke.

I spent the whole weekend in a slightly dozy state but I still managed to finish a little cross-stitch project:

come to the dark side...

I will have to frame this one as well and bring it into the office as I think it requires some geeky/crafty/silly make-over.

Oh, and I also learnt the meaning of a new word...

1 comment:

  1. i'm sorry about the toothache, but you are in milan now? what an exciting life you have! are you still knitting?