"Take it from someone who has experienced this pain...there really is no relief from it. You can try oral anesthetics like Anbesol, or take anti-inflammatory pills such as Ibuprofen/Motrin IB. Also, soaking the area in warm, salty water is sometimes helpful to releive the pain. But in most cases, these effects are only temporary and won't keep you releived for long. Don't use anything like ice...that will only intensify the pain from the temperature extreme. If you feel you must try ice, then wrap it in a rag and hold it on the outside of your cheek. Same goes for warm salt water...make sure the water you use isn't too hot, because the extreme in temperature will be very painful. If you are experiencing this pain on a constant basis, that doesn't necessarily mean that they are ready to come out either. They may only be starting to come in. I first experienced pain from my wisdom teeth when I was 14 years old, which lasted about 5 weeks. They didn't actually come out until I was over 20 years old. If you haven't already done so, go to your dentist and get x-rays taken, and ask him/her what they think you should do. Many dentists may say 'just live with the pain because its temporary', but I know from firsthand experience that this pain can last for several weeks. If your dentist doesn't give you any kind of solution to the pain, then go ahead and use the methods above. Anbesol may not be useful unless you apply a large amount, so use that in conjunction with the Motrin. I recommend Motrin over any other pain releiver, simply because it is specifically designed for inflammations. If you don't have access to Motrin, regular aspirin may suffice, but I recommend a stronger aspirin, such as Bayer. "
Sunday, May 24, 2009
growing wisdom?
argghh my wisdom tooth hurts, gum swollen even swallowing saliva hurts... tougue hurts!! argggggggggggggggghhhh :(
Friday, May 22, 2009
i laughed 5 mins on this ok.
WHAT DO U CALL SOMETHING FAT AND FAKE?
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A HIPPOCRITE!
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A HIPPOCRITE!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
life just slap me on my face.
I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken and I rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
Monday, May 18, 2009
i teared while reading this.
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.
Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together.
I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.
Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."
As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.
Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers."
You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.
When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room.
A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.
And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together.
I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.
Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."
As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.
Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers."
You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.
When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room.
A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.
And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
having bad week at work. seems like nothing goes smoothly, don't know why and no one to talk to. used to tell hunnie about problems at work but he always think that 1) i think of all politics myself - there is no such things as politics? 2) my interpersonal is lousy that's why i faced these kind of problems because he never did. it's like people slapping a dead fish at your face and so i will just keep everything to myself. no point telling him already because he doesn't seem interested to listen. anyway, to the lady who did this to me, just hope that one day she will get a taste of her own medicine. and to the watever rubbish internal-not approved-newly set up-as and when-rules, good luck. And talk about hunnie, haiz.. seems like i can't share problems with him, can onli share happiness. he's not the one that can help me solve or make me feel better when i'm depressed. sad right? just like if tell him wat i want, he will always say "tats what cleo or female magazine will write". i tink he just don't understand women la.. and also when i tell him abt his mum, it will always become like i'm the negative one, he just don't understand im just not used to this kind of thing.. i always ended up feeling horrible after telling him. occasionally is okie, frequently i will feel rather annoyed. watever it is. life realli is bitter coffee for me now. monday is hell.. and i know he will sure say "can u dun always complain abt work?" what he didn't know is that this week i've such bad days at work that im at the verge of crying in the office.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
finally
after so long, my certificate is ready for collection on monday. Phewww.. but what's next? Having a degree doesn't mean anything. Doesn't guarantee me good money, good bonuses, good future, good life, good husband, good luck.
seeing the certificate = thinking of the time i'm damn broke = waste of money.
perhaps i have not really seen how this certificate will change my life.
but it's recession! i can't go around job hopping, will not reflect good on me.
what a lame excuse. hahaha
seeing the certificate = thinking of the time i'm damn broke = waste of money.
perhaps i have not really seen how this certificate will change my life.
but it's recession! i can't go around job hopping, will not reflect good on me.
what a lame excuse. hahaha
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
dream..
I still remember the dream i had on tuesday night.. i dreamt of crawling black caterpillars on my bed.. super scary! 2 of them.. then saw them becoming butterflies and flying around my room. I'm screaming like mad because they are very big. As big as my head.. -.-'"
So i googled.. and the dreams interpretation, hmm not so bad afterall:-
Butterfly
To see a butterfly in your dream, denotes your need to settle down. Butterflies signify creativity, romance, joy and spirituality. You may be experiencing a transformation into a new way of thinking. Or you may be undergoing a transitional phase.
So i googled.. and the dreams interpretation, hmm not so bad afterall:-
Caterpillar
To see a caterpillar in your dream, signifies a stage in your own personal growth and development where you are on your way, but have not yet reached your goal.
To see a caterpillar in your dream, signifies a stage in your own personal growth and development where you are on your way, but have not yet reached your goal.
Butterfly
To see a butterfly in your dream, denotes your need to settle down. Butterflies signify creativity, romance, joy and spirituality. You may be experiencing a transformation into a new way of thinking. Or you may be undergoing a transitional phase.
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