The Mallet

This was one of the most hideous mornings of my life.  The oral surgeon could not pull my tooth out.  He had to drill into the bone, hit at it with a chisel and mallet and even "split" my nerves, whatever that means.  It was a living hell.  When it was all done, the surgeon said, "That had to be traumatizing for you."  Truer words were never spoken.
On the good side, I'm in bed, watching Pride and Prejudice, nibbling on mashed potatoes and wishing I could get my tooth back.