Today's word is Calcified (kal'-sihf-eyed)

Used in a sentence: When one of the two roots in a typical tooth is found to be blocked once a root canal has begun, it is said to be "calcified".

Synonyms include: "I may have to refer you to a specialist" and "Expect to pay out the currently-numb nose" (that latter also known as, "this won't hurt a bit")

Tooth number 12 was drilled on today. From the start, I was fine & felt no pain. Okay, granted: She truly did shot enough novicane in my mouth to numb my NOSE... Then she came to that damned calcified root. I must note here that she is about the best ever dentist I've been under the drill for. Honestly. I'd refer her to anyone. Perhaps especially to the Horndawgs, because she's (oh my God, DON'T SAY IT!!) cute as a button (*sigh* he said it). But after uncovering the "C" root, all pain broke loose. It was pain-a-licious. The Pain Train has arrived en-route to its final stop, Pain Central Station. ... So she adds more novicane until even my lower left eyelid doesn't seem to want to work right.

So, in case I didn't convey this clearly enough, that was the worse of the two roots. More, it looks like she might not have been able to finish it off because that "calcification" thing could be deeper in the root. I can only conclude that the best thing I could have done to avoid this is to not have included any milk or other calcium-containing foods in my diet. Don't pay that last sentence any mind, kids. Be good and take your calcium pills...

The last part of the first half of the procedure today (yes I must go back to see the cute-as-a-button dentist... poor me), is to pack the drilled-and-reamed roots with some medicated material & let it stew for a couple weeks. After that, if there's no more calcification going on in there, I'll start having a cap made for the tooth. Maybe.

Hey, I was twiching from the nose-numbing, eyelid inhibiting, novicane when she went over that part. All I know is that I have to fill this prescription for the antibiotic that I also have to take for a week, and also the vicodin for the presumed forthcoming pain (actually it's starting to come to me now).

Even after all that, as I sit typing this, I do believe that coming off of the novicane is about the worst non-drilling part of the trip: I have an itch on my cheek, but it's totally numb when I scratch. It's as if I'm scratching a plate of glass that's over the itch. It sucks.
....
I typed all that up about three hours ago. My face has all its feeling again, but if this tooth begins to throb much more I may just tell Princess Vicodin to do her stuff.

THE GOOD NEWS: My dental insurance, bucking the trend of about every other insurance carrier I've heard of out there, has increased coverages. This root canal, had it been done last year would've been 70% covered, now is 80% covered. If I have any "major" work done (I'm assuming this is the "rebuild your jaw" type of scenario), that coverage is up from 50% to 60%. Not quite enough to put me in a Snoopy-dance mood, but it's helpful. The down side is that I have to put out $2,000 for dental stuff in a year before they cover 100%. Two grand? I don't plan on even spending last year's threshhold of $1,750 for that to kick in!

Of course that has me trying to think of how much pain $2,000 would buy me there ... And how much of a better deal I could get in a red-light district somewhere for the same money.

(this all transpired about a month ago actually. I'm all better now.)

AmFam.com

I'm trying to give you money. You should be happy about this. Is it just some Schadenfreude thing that makes you want to watch me squirm in the attempt or something? Hoop after hoop after hoop must be jumped through. Flaming hoops and flying piranhas snapping at my every move, only to be given a "Go Directly To Jail" penalty for some stupid unwritten 'rule' of yours, requiring me to start. All. Over. Again. Case in point:

>login - ********* enter
--login failed, incorrect username or password (Okay, this is where I fat-fingered it. My bad.)

>login - ********* enter

>thank you. how may i abuse you? - View Bill

>thank you. please log in.

>login - (Okay, so I realize this is one of those sites that won't work on any browser not branded by Redmond's Overlord. Close Opera and open Internet Exploder)

>login - ********* enter

>thank you. how may i abuse you? - View Bill

>thank you. You have one account with us, but i will require you to click on the one and only account number anyway, just because i can. select the account you wish to view. - click

>thank you. you have no method of payment in our files. to make a payment, enter account information first so that we have a firm grasp of your scrotums. select checking/savings account, or credit/debit card account. - credit/debit

>thank you. enter card type, number, expiration, bill-to address, ship-to address, and deposit fifty cents for acknowledging your existence. - type-n-enter

>thank you. now, here are your options: pay your regular monthly amount. alternatively, pay an amount three times as much, just for grins. alternatively, pay the full balance which is four times the monthly amount. alternatively, fill in the blank amount. - monthly

>thank you. i'm sorry, but credit/debit cards can only be used to pay the full balance. to return to the view bill screen, click here. - (I am NOT making this up... :sigh: ) HARD-CLICK

>thank you. please log in to continue.

>login - (Wha--? No fucking way!) use the browser history to go back to what looks like the 'view bill' screen

This continues on, far longer than it should have. Paying a bill should not require more than four screens:
Login
View Bill
Enter card information in one screen to pay bill
Logout
Okay, maybe a fifth screen in there to confirm you didn't enter Donald Trump's credit card number. He can't afford my insurance bill.

Still, I am truly amazed that anyone can remain in business with that kind of pathetic and frustrating web presence. I guess they still have enough non-web-savvy folks that pay their dues... So I will definitely be dropping this insurance provider at the end of this six-month stint & going to someone else. I suppose I could drop them now, but at the moment I just don't want to go through that particular hassle right now. November cannot come quickly enough though.

---

Guru, Feel the Music

:yawn:

Added to the list of things I am no longer allowed to do (into the "Sleep" category):

Partake in any caffienated beverage after 6pm... Unless I would like to remain bouncing off the walls at midnight and later, regardless of the fact that the alarm clock is set for 4am.

---

Granny was moved into a care home. I really need to get out there & see her before she's no longer there to go see.

Water the grass

I've been house sitting for over two weeks now on the premise that I was to keep the back yard watered. New sod had been put in a little over a month ago, and apparently it requires much watering as it all takes root. I have no problem with this, but every day save one that I've gone down there it's rained hard. Last night, half-inch-diameter hail came down. HAIL. Ah well.

Two problems there; First a light bulb burned out. Once I find where they keep the light bulbs, I'll replace that. Or the hallway can stay dark, I'm not too worried about it.

The second problem; I was in the other room when I heard a crash and then a bunch of loud buzzing at the rear sliding glass door. My first thought is the microwave oven on the counter there was posessed. When I took a look though, I saw that this wall-mounted pedistal-almost-sconce next to the rear door had come loose & fallen, hitting the power button to the vacuum cleaner right below it. So now I'm thinking up a nice explanation that sounds more plausible than, "Dude, the thing just fell man..."

So I had this party, see. About a hundred or so people showed up, and one of these people had this pet monkey... ya with me? Well, the music's thumpin and this damned monkey is dancing on the pedistal, right? And I guess the monkey was pretty in to the music, because just as Kajagoogoo hit that first "Too shy shy" line, the little guy comes down on the pedistal and takes it right off the wall. Total bummer. I mean, if I'd known that a bunch of hot gals would come running up to see if anything was broken, I would have been dancing on the damn pedistal! So anyway the monkey's owner says you owe them like a thousand dollars for medical expenses or some bullshit... Oh, the grass is looking fantastic out there by the way, bye now.

Yeah, that'll do.

---

Jet, Cold Hard Bitch

strange house

It was a war.

The bunker was battered, chips of concrete in the walls falling away from repeated hammering from the outside (and in, actually). The back wall has caved in at one point, exposing the loose soil behind it. Dirt, powder, and spent casings litter the 15' x 20' floor. Flashes of artillery explosions and lightning come through a six foot wide, two- or three-inch tall opening that I crouch under, casting erie flashes and silhouettes against the back wall. Through that opening that looks down on a wide valley, other sounds of war come through all too clearly.

"Oh God! Make it stop! Can anyone hear me? HELP ME!"

To my left, the S-entry going out the front (flawed design I'm sure, but this isn't an "accurate depiction of warfare architecture" dream). The back wall of that shows the flashes as well.

"No! Get away! NOOOOOO!" The lightning flashes, throwing the flickering shadow of him on the back wall, held in the air by the throat. What holds him up is a definitely non-human arm. The voice goes silent, replaced by thunderously grinding bones of what used to be his neck.

The others in the bunker with me eye the entrance apprehensively. Some have an oddly accepting, relieved look on their faces; Whatever it was will no doubt come into what has become our little hiding place. Relief that the end is finally here.

Nothing enters. A moment, an hour, an eternity goes by. Nobody has blinked. I pull my eyes from the entrance and focus on the back wall's breach. I move to that opening as quick as I can over the course of a day. Nobody notices. The soil is brittle, easily flaking away as I scrape at it with my helmet at first (some World War One looking thing) and then my hands. The artillery continues in the night outside. The faint screams. The inhuman growls and howls. I continue digging.

Head-first, I seem to make quick progress, but nobody follows. The dirt I loosen in front of me, I push back with my feet. Eventually, the opening behind is closed up with the dirt I move, so there's no light. Dig. Dig Dug. Digging farther in darkness. I have no concept of how much time has passed, but I decide to start up. Diagonally I continue, maybe 30 degrees, maybe 45, but definitely up. The dirt begins to get moist. Or maybe my fingers are bleeding. I neither know nor care. Dig. Scrape. "Get away from there," is my only thought. So much so that I don't realize that the moisture has grown. Each scoop is mud now, and it drips down on my face. I realize now. I realize it's far too wet. No option now, as clog after falling clog starts the inevitable cave-in. I push up with my fists as the mud pours down intent on encasing me.

Only the air moves up. My legs are already pinned as I move my left arm out of the path of more earth. My right arm reaches up in vain, as now my waist is pinned. My scream isn't wholly voluntary once the earth compresses my torso and breaks my left arm. The fingers on my right hand extend the last inch, breaking through to a cold wind.

POP

That's the sound I hear as the earth and water slam in on my skull. Now I can only wait. Wait the eternity as I struggle to move unsuccessfully. In the darkness, spots of light come. My mouth tries to open involuntarily to gasp air where only earth exists. The lights grow brighter. Flashing. Pulsating. I feel. Every muscle at once groans its last contraction with all it has. My body almost moves at that point, and the lights explode.

The earth I'm encased in draws apart in my view, showing a cross-section of the dirt holding me in my grave, and the boulder I was digging under that ultimately foiled me. My body's fingers feel the air, but that is not mine any longer. The image melts away.

How to describe death? Nobody's been back from it, so there is no description. I know what I perceived. Probably it would be more accurate to describe what I didn't perceive. Life.

Okay, I'll elabrate as that says nothing, really. To describe requires a benchmark. A frame of reference. Take a certain hue of the color "Blue". Take the scent of "Campfire". Take the feeling of "Love". Represent each with an atom. The "Success" from your past. The "Noise" of your favorite fraction of a second of music. The "Feel" of a nine volt battery on your tongue. Continue this compilation of atoms and you will build an atmosphere of "Life".

Death is a complete vacuum of that. It's not dark. "Dark" is an atom, and in Death is absent. Even the word "nothing" is far more than the sum of Death. No "Cold". Not even a sense of "Self" is here. Not physical; I don't look with eyes. I don't know how it is that I perceive this vast emptiness. I don't even know how (or with what) I perceive "I". And fear starts to creep in. Yeah, this late in the game I finally get fear. And it builds; The uncertainty (what's next), the paranoia (how long will I be here), the NEED to just move (where/how/what is this), or even feel a sense of movement (oh God). Straining to move here just as I strained under the boulder. Then a tear opens.

I feel again the earth holding me as my arm pulls my torso from the dust and I look up at a brightly brown sky. It's so dry now, so barren. The boulder is gone. The landscape is a vast flat desert now, dry and cracked soil at my fingertips (what is wrong with my fingers?) and stretches on as far as I can see. Finally my feet break free from my former grave. Standing up, I start walking (I'm limping badly... why can't my left foot work right?).

Left, right, left... The next fall my right foot makes, everything changes. What was cracked soil is now drenched grass. The rain falls in buckets as I step onto the sidewalk from someone's front yard. Finding myself on a nice little Leave It To Beaver neighborhood street that curves to the left, I walk (what IS it with my left foot?) along the street. Illumination from a set of headlights reaches from just around the corner, and I hear an engine droning on as the tires splash through the rainy surface of the road. The illumination comes around the corner, but there are no headlights. There is no car, no tires, nothing. Just the sounds that a car would make as driving along in the rain, and the light that would come from a set of headlights. But no car.

To the right is a hospital. I move closer towards the emergency entrance doors that open for an orderly pushing a wheelchair through. Nobody is in the chair, but the orderly talks to it making assurances that they're going to take care of the problem. I follow, but as the orderly goes in through the automatic motion-sensing doors, they close behind him. As they close, I see my reflection... no, I see A reflection, but this is not me. This is a corpse. The scalp has peeled away from the skull, the clothes disintegrate in places revealing bone and gore. The left arm is twisted in an odd way, and both hands show fingers with the tips ground away to the first knuckle. There is no left foot, just a tibia grinding into the concrete walkway, and I realize this IS me. I begin to scream, but my jaw falls away. Before it shatters on the ground, I wake.

Sitting bolt upright in bed to a crack of lightning and its snapping thunder half a second later, nothing is familiar. At the foot of the bed, where the bathroom should be, is a wall. To the right, where I leave the bedroom door ajar, is a window. FUCK. ... memories fade from corpses to favors. Like the favor I'm doing for a friend, house-sitting while he's away for a week. Clock check: 2:00am. The alarm is set for 4:00am (I work the early shift).

FUCK. So I get up to write all this down. On paper, no less, since the friend has no computer here.

I'm just a delinquent

Got a letter in the mail today from my friendly neighborhood taxman. It seems that I missed making the second of two payments for property tax this year. I stupidly misplaced the "coupon" for the second payment somehow. Ah well, the penalty amount was less than the overdue fees at most video rental places, so I wrote the check & stuffed the envelope. All better.

And now, off to see Pirates. I bet they don't get delinquent tax notices. pffft

sssssssssss

Well, I took the bicycle off the hanger to add a little air to the tires and ride a bit. Once down, I saw a pebble stuck in the tread of the front tire, so naturally I plucked it out. Turns out it was a thorn, not a pebble...
as evidenced by the immediate hiss of escaping air.

SON-OF-A !!!

Well, here I am

So many tidbits I see that stimulate the need to converse, only to be shut down due to several others' inability to play nice. :sigh: So here's my, what, fifth blog "home away from home". Might not be updated particularly frequently. Or it might, despite its duplicity.