February 23, 2004

Frontline online

FRONTLINE: watch online | PBS

Posted at 10:15 AM

February 16, 2004

disabling WMI

Disable Remote WMI

Posted at 01:51 PM

Liberty

It is true that liberty is precious - so precious that it must be rationed.
Vladimir Ilyich Lenin --Attributed to Lenin in the Webb's Soviet Communism
Posted at 10:30 AM

February 07, 2004

SVG Tutorial

SVG Tutorial
Learn SVG

Posted at 11:51 AM

February 06, 2004

Pericoronitis

It started the Monday before last. A sharp pain arrested all my senses and brought my attention to bear on the right quadrant of my lower jar. Somewhere, beneath the pink gumscape a third molar was battering my teeth and gum, seeking exit. All thoughts failed to compute. It was amazing how pain tunes out every single competing thought in my mind and my attention span suddenely increases.

I nursed my cheek with a hand, as though that would make a difference. When the meeting recessed for 15 minutes I scrambed through my organizer searching for my dentist's number. As the phone rang, I reasoned with myself. "C'mon don't be a wuss. You don't have time for this now. Put it off. You've lasted this before" - Back in college, my lower left molar had attempted the same attention grabbing. I drowned off the pain with Tylenol as I trudged through the semester, knowing fully well I couldn't afford a dentist. When the phone was answered I had an appointment for next Tuesday.

I continued through the week occasionally being tormented by sharp spasms of pain. The days were ok. The nights were terrible. If I went to bed without sufficiently numbing myself then I would awake, with alacrity. My eyes wide open, body crouched expecting another sharp spasm to send me convulsing off the bed. I would shuffle nervously downstairs to the kitchen to seek a chemical combination that would stave off the pain. While chewing I favored my left side. The meetings ended on Friday. The pain got worse and more frequent.

I only had to last the weekend. I was sure it would be no problem. Sat morning, the articulation of my jaw was limited. Funny, I mused, noting how my index finger fit snugly between the front row of my teeth. At lunch I tore pieces of bread and squished them into small cubes so that I could squeeze them through the opening. My left teeth chewed gratefully.

Sun morning, the movement reduced. There was now only enought space for a spoon. The lower right side had stiffened considerably. I made myself a smoothie for lunch. I scooped out some yoghurt into the blender and attempted to lick the spoon in a time honored tradition of waste-reduction. My tongue was entrapped between calcite gates of hell, beating futiley. I had to wash the spoon, yoghurt still dripping off it.

Mon morning. The entry for a spoon was now barred. Amazingly, I could still speak. The dentist finally saw me at 2pm. I told the assistant who was trying to gain access to my mouth, that I could only open my mouth "so much". She waited for a minute, before realizing the full potential had already been reached. A painful setup for an external X-Ray began. I had to bite between my teeth and piece of plastic that set the reference for the machine. Parting the two rows of teeth was an ordeal.

The dentist came by. He tried an examination that concluded rapidly. He prescriped Clindamycin (300mg) 4 times a day and Vicodeine (for pain when required).

I waited at the grocery store while my prescription was filled. I walked aisle after aisle of food not averting my eyes from any food item. Suddenely, being in the grocery store was no different than walking the women's section of a department store. I was curious purely for academic reason. The merchandise no longer applied to me.

Armed with advice from the pharmacist to always ensure my stomach was not empty at medicine intake I returned home. As it turned out pushing a capsule between my teeth was much harder than the dinky aspirin tablets. By the evening I had trouble swallowing as well, making it harder for me to eat. I caved in and took a Vicodeine. It took a little while, before the label - Do not operate machinery, was clear to me. The room spun, in a nice sort of a way as I walked. My eyes drooped. I felt as though I had had a few glasses of wine too many. I crashed into my bed and slept for a couple of hours. I awoke with no remorse.

Tuesday was no better. I had a tough time swallowing. Every meal was tough. For breakfast I had a smoothie, for lunch I had soup. For dinner I had a coffee mix in milk. Food no longer appealed to me.

Wed and Thu seemed to make me better. I hadn't worked out in a week. My throat stopped hurting when I swallowed, now it was something lower in my neck. A fluid of some sort accumulated in my mouth every 15 seconds. I reasoned it was the bacteria being flushed out. I slept with a cup on the bedside table. Whenever, the fluid interrupted my breathing sending me into a coughing spell I would wake and drain the contents of my mouth into the cup. I think at other times my mouth drooled at night. Emptying the clear, viscous liquid on my shirt.

The liquid stopped, oozing. The throat quit hurting. Its Friday night. I still can't open my mouth. People ask me if I need anything. I have all the smoothies and soup I can get. I'd like to eat something thicker than yoghurt. Thats what I'd really like.

Posted at 10:56 PM | Comments (1)
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