So I have awakened, at 3:30am on the day I intend to go back to work after recovering from my little bout of stomach flu, with an intense pain in one of the teeth that they were working on last week. If I were to wake on a random night with this kind of pain, I would call it a toothache. As it is, I am calling it a take-four-Advil-and-see-what-happens. I've had a little random achy pain in the upper jaw and cheekbone on the side they were working on for the past few days, but nothing to write home about. This... well, I guess I'm writing home about it. I'd like it to stop now, so I can go back to sleep. If it doesn't come back, I can just say, "Gosh, that was strange." I've had my doubts about whether I'd get away without a root canal on that tooth, and I think my dentist has as well. I have a few more now. If I need a root canal, the dental fund -- AKA my savings account -- is kaput, finis, done, empty. Of course, that's not how one decides whether or not to have a root canal, and after the saga of #29 (sung in the lore of dentistry, passed down by oral tradition from generation to generation) I've learned not to screw around. I guess we'll see what morning brings.