Sunday, June 11, 2006

Sick Slick

Eric Slick performing with Dave Dreiwitz, bassist for Ween in Dave's side project, Crescent Moon, on Thursday night

So it's a lot of fun to google my kids lately. Ever since Adrian Belew hired them to be his new power trio, their names are appearing on forum boards across the world.

Here's a mention of Julie and Eric Slick on the Yes forum board, All Good People;

Here's another one on the Primus forum board, The Bull Board;

They get some blurbage on yet two other King Crimson forum boards, Elephant Talk and ProjeKction

And finally, here's one from the Ween Forum Board which mentions Eric's performance with their bassist the other night in his side project, Crescent Moon. And um, while Eric was performing with Crescent Moon, he got an offer to sit in as a substitute drummer from time to time for a band opening for the Flaming Lips which is one of his favorite bands so to say he was a bit excited over that is an understatement.

Anyway, the reason for the title of this post and my three day absence from this blog (and oh my god, the whole My Space writers' crew -- I'm not ignoring you and thanks for all the invites) is that I've been incredibly sick and am terrified I may be in the hospital in another day or two. Worse, it's my own damn fault. So if stuff like this makes you queasy, stop reading now.

I knew I needed a root canal on a bad tooth -- an upper left molar -- a few months ago but the dentist put in a temporary filling and it felt fine so I decided not to deal with it because it's not the root canal itself I hate, it's that whole biting into the jelly so they can make you a new crown and the whole time thing -- it's usually a once a week visit for five or six weeks to the dentist, etc. and I dreaded it so I just put it on the back burner.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The temporary filling fell out recently but shockingly, there was no pain at all, the tooth felt fine, and once again, I went on with my life and didn't call the dentist.

When Julie and I went out for dinner Thursday night (more on that later...sheesh...I have to at least be able to end this post on a positive note) I bit into a soft, warm piece of bread and all hell broke loose. I felt like I'd been shot in the face. I have a pretty high pain threshhold but let me tell you, I almost fainted. But I wasn't going to ruin dinner because Julie and I had been looking forward to going out all week and we'd already told our waitress what we wanted for our appetizers and entrees. So I quickly ordered two very potent house made Sangrias and downed them both within five minutes. Somehow I got through the meal but I knew I was in big trouble because I could see my cheek. You know what I'm talking about? Ever get a bruise or swelling on your cheek that makes it so puffy you can see it out of your eye and it's almost like an obstruction?

And then Julie looks at me and says "Oh my god, Mom, you look like Quasimoto!"

Not sure if that was an accurate remark -- wasn't he the guy with the hump on his back...but anyway, it's not exactly a remark you should make to a hypochondriac -- especially one who just had two very potent drinks and could see her cheek.

Julie didn't realize the seriousness of the situation and I guess neither did I and I didn't want to ruin the evening so when she suggested walking the three miles home instead of cabbing it, I numbly agreed, even though I felt like throwing myself down on the pavement and letting out primal screams of pain.

Got home, took a handful of Advil, and prayed it would pass.

No such luck.

Friday morning I woke up with my left eye completely swollen shut and the entire side of my left face looking like I had the mumps.

Oh my god, I must have an abscess, thought I, and called the dentist hysterical. Lucky for me, he said I could come in at 2:00 p.m. I called his office at 9:00 a.m. That meant I had five hours to scream in pain and worry, so what do I do? I went on the internet and started researching what happens when you neglect an infected upper molar.

Did you know that an upper molar is like one inch from the sinus cavity and two inches from your brain? And that if you have a serious infection it can rapidly travel and literally kill you?

I couldn't stop reading and by the time I got to the dentist, I was both a physical and emotional wreck. Plus, in all of my internet research, I also learned that these infections are so insiduous that a lot of times even the strongest antibiotics don't work and you need to be hospitalized with an I.V. drip.

So at least I was prepared when the dentist saw my face, my x-ray, wrote out the prescription and said "If you aren't feeling better by Monday or Tuesday, call me immediately and we may have to hospitalize you. And whatever you do, stay in bed or calm in a chair and don't do anything around the house because you never know where these infections can go and a lot of movement on your part could be very, very bad."

Of course all I could think about was the three mile walk home the night before and how lucky I am I didn't pass out then.

He prescribed a very potent antibiotic and some wicked pain killers, which I hate. How the hell does anyone ever get addicted to those things? God. They make me so fucking dizzy and sick in the stomach it's almost as bad as the pain in my face. But I broke down and took them because I was literally screaming and luckily I had warm pudding and a Xantac as well because finally I got at least a bit of relief.

But it's now Sunday and I don't feel much better. Admittedly, I've only been on the drugs for part of Friday and all day yesterday so I am praying that I turn a corner today or yeah, I suspect I'm in the hospital tomorrow. My eye is still swollen and I have a lump on my cheek directly under it which tells me the damn infection got to my sinus cavity. I'm weak, nauseous, and just about as sick as I've ever been in my life and what makes it worse is that it's all my damn fault for being an idiot and not going to the dentist months ago.

So the bottom line is, if I disappear for a few days, I'll have Eric post my hospital room number and telephone so you can all call me and tell me how dumb I am and then send me flowers and balloons. Ha.

Actually, I was going to end this post talking about the absolutely marvellous restaurant where I had my...sob...last supper Thursday night but I find I can't even sit here at the computer and must go back to bed and god damn it, I'm crying right now.

Have I mentioned how STUPID I AM?

This is one time not even Neil Gaiman can make me feel better, but to continue on with tradition, here's another cool photo so at least my friend Susan Henderson will be a happy camper today:

Later, (I hope!)