|Here's an interesting idea from the past that could|
get you some years in the state pen.
It all started with an unfortunate incident with a pistachio shell.
I was on the computer, talking to Prairie Eydie, and eating nuts at the same time. I pride myself in being a multi-tasker, but to be honest, I often try to do lots of things at one time and do none of them very well. My Prairie Sister will be the first to tell you that talking to me on the phone goes something like this:
Me: "...and then she said..."
"Sh-t, I just dropped my pizza slice on the keyboard."
PE: "Why are you on the computer, and what kind of pizza?"
Me: "I'm trying to find the telephone number for the Boy Scouts. The wreath I ordered wasn't delivered, and it's green olive and mushroom. Oops, there's the timer. I have cookies in the oven."
"Damn, I burned the whole pan and just dumped it on the floor. Are you still there?"
|"Excuse me, I am just having a little snack |
while I have a nervous breakdown."
So back to the tooth and the nut. I was computing (Is that a proper gerund?), and talking to Prairie Eydie, and trying to shell and eat pistachios, when "OUCH!!!" I bit down hard on a shell--so hard that I actually had to take my hands off the keyboard and out of the pistachio bowl. I kept on talking to PE because she was on speaker phone and, frankly, I needed some sympathy.
I was sure I cracked a tooth, but because I really wished I hadn't, I decided to ignore it for a while.
I like to think of this as my Pollyanna Persona.
|"I'm sure that old tooth is just going to be perfectly|
That was over a week ago. The tingle and throb has continued and increased. I have taken copious amount of ibuprofen, and please don't leave comments about this drug's many dangers. The day before Thanksgiving, I decided that I really needed to do something about this, and I got a appointment for Tuesday, December 3rd.
That was yesterday.
Well, despite the tingling, throbbing, slightly swollen gum, and my general malaise (I have always wanted to use that word), the tooth looks fine. My dear dentist x-rayed, poked, prodded, probed, and even hammered on the tooth. Diagnosis: Possible trauma to the nerve (it will get better in time) or...
...the nerve is slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y dying.
No one wants to hear that any part of him/her is heading for the Pearly Gates, especially a part that may require a root canal or an actual removal in the future. It seemed like I was looking forward to a simple crown, and now we are talking gaping holes in the mouth.
Things are not always as they seem.
Speaking of which, let's talk about one of my birthday gifts. Yes, somehow I got this post back to my birthday. My daughter, Maia, gave me this lovely scarf. It has a lovely floral design in browns and burgundy. It will look great with my brown boots. She asked me what I wanted, and this is what I asked for, no cords attached.
I unwrapped the package, unfurled the soft folds, and draped it dramatically over my shoulder.
All of us screamed.
This photo does seem to bring me back to that dying tooth.