This morning, as I nearly jerked out of the dentist’s chair, he said: “Oh, hit your funny bone, didn’t I?” “Mohagh [Bone, in English]?!” I asked. “No, not really your bone,” he chuckled, “just your nerve. You’ll be VERY numb now. Sometimes I go for months without hitting one, and then in one week — one after another.” Just lucky, I guess. I would have chuckled too but for the vacuum thing sucking all the humor out of my mouth. Instead, I thrashed internally, while my face flowed around to the back of my neck for the duration of the drilling. He found a large crack, so next week: my first crown! But now, the headache begins, and because I’d rather feel pain than not feel, I’m not touching the bottle of horse-pill-sized Vicodin …
I felt a funeral in my brain,And mourners, to and fro,Kept treading, treading, till it seemedThat sense was breaking through.And when they all were seated,A service like a drumKept beating, beating, till I thoughtMy mind was going numb.~ Emily Dickinson [from I Felt a Funeral in my Brain]