Yeah, that's me. About three-quarters of the way through my root canal yesterday. Last week, I was lying about, reading a book on my iPad and coping with one of those man colds. I was hacking my lungs up, blowing my nose to beat the band and cranking up the stereo because I was so stuffed up I was practically deaf (why's Mrs D always yelling at me?) when just when I thought I was a marvellous medical malady multi-tasker a tooth started to ache. It got worse Thursday but I didn't call the dentist. I have one of those love/hate relationships with my dentist. Usually hate wins out. Did I think my toothache would get better? Hey, miracles can happen. By Friday I was eating food the consistency of baby food and called the dentist. He doesn't work Fridays it turns out. He golfs. Lucky guy. But his colleague could take me, and did, and prescribed antibiotics until I could see my dentist Monday. Interesting weekend. More pablum-like food. Soup. Stuff that doesn't r...