Sprained Tongue?

I think I sprained my tongue when I took that fall Thursday last week.

I really hurt myself tripping over a bump in the concrete.  I slammed down onto the ground chin first.  I scraped both my knees through my thick jeans.  Two hispanic women sat chatting in a car and had front row seats to my spill.  Neither offered support or asked if I was OK.

Friday, the next day, as I was driving to my p/t job, my breath was bugging me so I put a piece of gum in my mouth and chomped away.  A few seconds later I felt something hard in my gum.  I took the piece of gum out of my mouth and saw this huge sugar-colored cube that had jagged edges.  That jagged edged surprise turned out to be a porcelain filling the gum had sucked out of my jaw.

I started getting really freaked out about me swallowing.  I was really conscious of swallowing and would try to do so too early -- before the appropriate amount of moisture had collected in my mouth.  I would force myself to try to swallow right after I had swallowed.  It was impossible -- there was no saliva there to help me complete the movement. 

That would freak me out, too.  What if I never could swallow when I needed to?  I would suck water through the roof of my mouth and my tongue.  I never put the two together ... that:
1) the fall may have caused the filling to loosen (chin bruised on left side of face, filling popped out on left side lower)
2) the fall, perhaps, causing my tongue to sprain.

The pain wakes me up at night.  lol ... my tongue ... pain .. waking me up.  Weird.

Do not google "swollen tongue;" it will tell you you have cancer.

Don't think that wasn't already on my mind.

I am content sitting here at my laptop with Maxi running around in the butcher paper he so loves.  He likes to hide his toys under the paper and then discover them again ("prey!") so sometimes he will scoot along the long paths of paper, pawing underneath for a toy or two.

Man, I love that cat.

I also love lil miss coco chanel and Armani.  Coco is the perfect cat.  She loves being a cat.  I call her my Happy Little Dancer.

Armani is my Troubled Poet ... he is such a sweet cat but was abused as a kitten so he reacts mostly out of fear -- esp if anyone tries to put him in his carrier.  But he is a complete love bug and comes in and cuddles with me at night when I am in my bed.

Max Factor is interesting.  He is a little chatterbox and he always needs to be near me.  When Sheryl and I were driving up from LA (did it in one night!!), Maxi had been in his carrier for HOURS (over 12 at that point) so I let him out.  Carefully.

He got up on the console between us, put his front paws on the top of the dashboard and stood there tall and proud watching the road greet us.  Brave kitty.

Wish I had taken a picture of it.  It is a beautiful memory.