The tooth is still sensitive, and I am very...hmm...for lack of a better word aware of it, as if it were larger or heavier or something, rather like a cinderblock sitting in my jaw. Even when not doing anything, I know it's there. It is not content to be ignored, like the other molars. It is lurking.
However, so long as I do not chew on it, thwap it, dump cold liquids on it, or do more than trail my tongue across it (which I do approximately once a minute, because it's a friggin' sore tooth) it is not stabbing in agony. There is no swelling, no discharge, no evidence of any sort of infection, and while I'm keeping up the heroic doses of ibuprofen, I'm off the Vicodin. So long as I do nothing to enrage the tooth, it is content to lurk, only occasionally doing a quick little jab up the hinge of the jaw, just, y'know, to remind me who's boss.
It's not a comfortable state of affairs, but it's one I can tolerate and function fairly normally in until tomorrow morning, when, her awful and pussiant majesty the Tooth Fairy willing, the evil tooth will be gutted, neutered, tamed, given dental cement overshoes, and sent to "sleep with the bicuspids."
Also, I had a dream last night, undoubtedly as a result of playing "Neverwinter Nights," about illithids running a Walgreens.