Thursday, January 24, 2008


I just returned from my morning appointment with my dentist. We shared in a little caper together. I required an extraction, which meant that she was supposed to send me to the oral surgeon affiliated with the practice. But she said she could do it, I told her to go for it, and she did. The entire extraction, from novocaine to yank, took less than ten minutes. She was marvelous. After she started pulling, she said in her Eastern European accent, "Now cross your fingers that the tooth don't break." Apparently, that would have greatly complicated matters. But it worked out.

Happy day.

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