Another Day in Paradise
{{{deep thoughts in Greenpoint}}}
Today I did my taxes and went to the dentist, where they told me that I have a molar which will eventually need a root canal. The nerve is still alive and kickin' (we did a little torture test to prove it), so probably no digging around below the gum-line this year. But the dentist let me harbor no illusions: the tooth is a crumbling mess and is pretty much planning its own funeral. It's just a matter of time until that nerve either dies or gets "put down." Either way: root canal.
It's a little like someone telling you that eventually you're going to die -- you already knew it, but it still shocks you when they shift the prospect into the near future. If I'd ever spent much time thinking about root canals, I suppose I'd have come to the conclusion that it's pretty much inevitable: sometime during the course of my life I'll probably have to spend a few hours in the dentist's chair having the roots drilled out of my jaw. But geez, these teeth are supposed to last me another 50 years at least. Don't start taking them away now!
Which brings me to the photo of the woman at the top of this post.
She gets it: Greenpoint, March, Dentist, Taxes. Only this picture of her seasoned soul, well-acquainted with life's unpleasant surprises, could make me feel better right now.
Today I did my taxes and went to the dentist, where they told me that I have a molar which will eventually need a root canal. The nerve is still alive and kickin' (we did a little torture test to prove it), so probably no digging around below the gum-line this year. But the dentist let me harbor no illusions: the tooth is a crumbling mess and is pretty much planning its own funeral. It's just a matter of time until that nerve either dies or gets "put down." Either way: root canal.It's a little like someone telling you that eventually you're going to die -- you already knew it, but it still shocks you when they shift the prospect into the near future. If I'd ever spent much time thinking about root canals, I suppose I'd have come to the conclusion that it's pretty much inevitable: sometime during the course of my life I'll probably have to spend a few hours in the dentist's chair having the roots drilled out of my jaw. But geez, these teeth are supposed to last me another 50 years at least. Don't start taking them away now!
Which brings me to the photo of the woman at the top of this post.
She gets it: Greenpoint, March, Dentist, Taxes. Only this picture of her seasoned soul, well-acquainted with life's unpleasant surprises, could make me feel better right now.
1 comment:
She is somehow a source of inspiration for me too... I mean, I'm just sitting in my underwear drinking coffee and trying to teach myself to read tarot cards... but still.
Sorry to hear about your tooth! Root canal?! Oh no!
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