take the pliers away!

This'll be all about a rotten tooth, but I just have to rant.

I had a tiny cavity on the far corner of my upper molar, it started about ten years ago. When I showed it to my dentist, she promptly dived for her pliers and said the tooth had to come off or else it'll cause me a lot of trouble in the future. The spot was too far back that not even the smallest drill could get to it, she said.

Since the very idea was trouble enough for me right then, I decided to make a run for it and see if my will-power was enough to make the inevitable go away. I'd have succeeded too , I think, if only the tooth didn't slowly get chipped off while the years trudged on, so that up until last night, there was only just a small, harmless stub of bone left where the molar used to be.

Right now, the same little stub is still there, but it has gone from harmless to stark raving lunatic with an army of furious hornets shooting up my brain. Occassionally, when it's feeling charitable, it just throbs, like a bashed thumb on steroids.

The inevitable has caught up with me. But now the pliers will have less real estate to latch on to, so I'll have to be strapped down for dental surgery.

Makes me want to curse practically everything sweet that has, incidentally, been my primary source of brain juice for the past ten years.

But the next saccharine thing I lay my hands on, I know I'll still want to eat anyway.