I Did It, and Lived to Tell the Tale!
There are few things in my life that I dread more than dental work, and by dental work, I mean anything whatsoever that causes me to open the door to a dentist’s office, and go inside, unless I’m just selling magazine subscriptions or Avon products. (None of which I sell, btw.)
But alas, once in a great while, Fate decides to provide the entertainment for the rest of the Gods of Morpork and Ankh (I’m reading Terry Pratchett) and gives me a toothache. And not just any toothache, but one so bad that I’ll have to see my regular dentist to be told after an hour’s work that the tooth beneath my crown is basically mush, but that he’s SURE he can save it. Why he wants to save mush is never fully explained, but an appointment with an endodontist is made immediately so I can have root canal “therapy.” You’d…
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