Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

The final six hours – Tuesday 8 November 8pm to Wednesday 9 November 2am
My friend and I got to the cinema with plenty of time before In Time and took our assigned seats.

I settled in and arranged at hand what I’d need throughout the movie – my fud and drink, my moist wipes to keep my hands clean and a small plastic bag for my rubbish.

A few minutes later, the session began.

A few ads and previews played, and then In Time began.

And about 10-15 minutes after that, the demon Dental Pain returned.

Once again, that ice-pick stabbed back into my gum and did its Chubby Checker impersonation.

Oh, for crying out loud…

I didn’t, though, because I didn’t want to annoy my friend.

So I decided to bear it in silence, and not only did I grit my teeth for the next 90 minutes or so I tried other ways repeatedly to manage or obliterate that pain.

Like resting my right jaw upon my right hand and pushing up as hard as I could.

And taking big mouthfuls of water and rinsing furiously.

And pushing my whole body back into my chair as hard as I could.

And hoping that In Time would become compelling and involving enough that I could completely lose myself within it and forget about that fucking ache in my mouth.

Alas, In Time was only so-so, a film with an interesting premise that was delivered with half-arsed execution.

And although the aching never got worse despite my desperate measures against it, Dental Pain stayed until the end of the film.

Fucking bastard.

*

In Time ended, my friend and I parted, and I got home not long before midnight.

I showered, sat down at the PC and went online until I felt tired enough to go to bed.

I also hoped that Dental Pain wouldn’t return then, and fortunately it didn’t…

…but what if it did while I was sleeping?

I decided to risk taking some of the sleeping medication that I get every now and then from my psychiatrist. Sometimes it works spectacularly, like giving me eight hours of blissful uninterrupted sleep – but sometimes it fails just as spectacularly, like giving me not even four hours of sleep.

Still, it was worth a try.

Finally at around 2am, I started nodding off.

I hauled myself up the ladder to my loft-bed, turned on the desk-fan at the head of my bed and snuggled in under my quilt.

As the wonderful cool air from the fan blew gently over me, I closed my eyes and hoped that sleep would arrive soon and take me safe and sound until daylight.

Soon, I drifted off.

The next day
About eight uninterrupted hours later, I woke up feeling absolutely wonderful.

I got up by going back down my bed’s ladder, and did a few hours’ work while still feeling wonderful.

Late that afternoon, I headed out to attend my regular Wednesday-night pub-trivia game with another friend – and, most important of all, visit my local chemist on the way.

Believe it or not, that very day my chemist was having a store-wide sale where everything was 20% off…

…and when I asked a sales assistant about what to get, she sympathised because she had suffered similarly in the past, expertly showed me exactly what I needed and pleasantly wished me all the best…

…and when I went to the chief pharmacist to finally get some extra-strength painkillers, he recommended a cheap generic brand.

The best was still to come, however, about an hour or so later.

*

At the pub, while I was waiting for my dinner to arrive, Dental Pain returned yet again.

I took two of the painkillers.

Five minutes later, Dental Pain vanished. Completely.

And the steak I had that night was one of the best I’d ever had.

By meal’s end, I felt even more wonderful.

It was great to be alive again.

*

About a month later, Dental Pain returned with the ice-pick for another long day.

I may give that sequel its own post…but then again, in my planned epilogue to this series, I may just include it in brief.

Until next time, stay well and take care 🙂