Part II of my very first root canal careened into an extraction, late this afternoon, when my highly compensated Oral Surgeon decided that the tooth had cracked beyond repair. So, since I was indisposed, he went out into the lobby to inform my wife that it would have to be pulled, I suppose to get her permission. So now I'm wearing this really cool makeshift ice pack made out of ice, a plastic zip-lock bag and a sacrificed pair of gray pantyhose. The Novocain is still working, so I can't even feel how cold this thing is. Tomorrow morning should be interesting, given that I'm sure it will be pounding and no telling how swollen it will be. But, I will head to the office anyway, if for no other reason than to give Kristin the opportunity to make fun of my predicament.
However, do not fear. This is the one and only photograph anyone will ever see of this event. There will be no close-up selfies of the inside of my mouth, no graphic shots of blood-soaked gauze. Those gory details will be reserved for only Lucy and Me. Pam is out buying me some tomato soup, bless her heart.