There's a hospital in Cornwall that is in a league of its own. Even the smell is unique. I always knew when a certain ex had had to work there because she would come back with her clothes smelling of the place, despite visiting different hospitals throughout the county. It's not a bad smell...just one that you know belongs there and nowhere else. Yesterday, Kirsty and I both came back with the odour on our clothes.
I've been told that there is nothing that matches the pain of a dying nerve in a tooth.One friend said that it was worse than childbirth. In fact, it was so bad that Kirsty was considering having her tooth taken out without the help of a local anaesthetic. Having a hypersensitive nerve (one that does not react to a local anaesthetic), made it extra difficult to deal with, hence why we were in the hospital all morning: Kirsty had to have a general anaesthetic instead.
For over a week, the dying nerve had Kirsty in tears...though she still thought of photography and told me to get a shot for the "Kirsty Project", a series of photographs I've been taking of Kirsty and her general life.
This is where photography can better writing. A photograph can tell a whole story in one image. It can fill a page with emotion and pain. A private moment, captured forever.
I took Kirsty home while she was still technically under the influence of the G.A. We watched some movies and she dosed for most of the evening. If anything, it was a relief for her to finally be rid of her pain.