Written April 29, 2025
Hello Dear Readers,
Today’s thrill? A date with dental destiny—aka, a root canal. Yes, nothing says “living on the edge” quite like your body deciding, without warning or permission, to eat your own tooth.
It all began during an innocent routine cleaning, when the x-rays revealed that one tooth had gone rogue. The official term? Resorption. My understanding? The tooth was staging a quiet rebellion and needed to be stopped before it descended into full molar mutiny.
Enter: Operation Root Canal + Crown Replacement. A heroic two-part intervention to rescue the situation. Unfortunately, my memory didn’t get the memo.
Thanks to post-trip brain fog, I merrily began my Tuesday—running errands, mowing the lawn, blissfully unaware I was supposed to be horizontal in a dentist’s chair. That illusion ended with a phone call: “Hi, are you on your way?”
Cue the wallet grab, a half-jog-half-panic-sprint to the clinic, and a fashionably late arrival, 15 minutes behind schedule. The drama begins.
The procedure itself wasn’t painful—modern dentistry is surprisingly gentle. Even the needle was considerate enough to come with a numbing warm-up act. Mostly, it was just an awkward hour of impersonating a yawning statue while a dental team played a symphony inside my mouth with tiny instruments.
Post-procedure, I emerged a bit disoriented but victorious. Naturally, I rewarded myself in the most responsible adult way possible: cupcakes. (Yes, plural. Stress management is real.)
Despite the pre-procedure anxiety and the frantic dash to the dentist, the worst part was honestly the guilt of forgetting the appointment—thank you, Google Calendar, for not saving me this time. But the tooth drama was caught early, and that’s something to chew on (gently, of course).
Back home, I resumed mowing, showered like a civilized human, and whipped up dinner. As for the cupcakes, I did offer one to my wife. She declined. So I ate both. No regrets. They were spectacular. Her loss. My gain—literally, considering I’ve been losing weight unintentionally. Cupcake therapy: highly recommended.
April has been… eventful. Between the Indiana trip and spontaneous dental sabotage, it’s been a wild ride. But May is knocking, and so is my birthday, hopefully with fewer drills and more frosting.