Although there is no biblical precedent for it, this morning I allowed an oral surgeon to plant a titanium post in my jaw, into which a fake tooth will someday be screwed. He was supposed to do two posts, but some complication related to lack of sufficient bone mass prompted him to put the second one on hold to a later date, which I can look forward to with eager anticipation.
As I type, my jaw is swollen, and I just finished swishing around for 30 seconds a truly horrible fluid which, I suspect, was bottled a few hundred yards downstream from a Russian petrochemical plant.
Tomorrow, the oral surgeon assured me, will not be a banner day in the anals of Dennie pain management. I can hardly wait.
