Sometime's You're the Windshield ...

When you're rippin' and a ridin'
And you're coming on strong
You start slippin' and slidin'
And it all goes wrong because

Sometimes you're the windshield

Sometimes you're the bug.

— "The Bug" (Mark Knopfler)

from the 1991 Dire Straits album "On Every Street"

I've been riding on greased rails these last few weeks. I've gotten an enormous amount accomplished both at home and at work, and have been feeling pretty darn smug about it. Wrapped a major video project. Got the last issue of our magazine for the year put to bed. We're all set for Christmas save the usual few last minute straggler gifts. I had minor surgery scheduled for Wednesday, December 15th, had all the paperwork done, the deductibles paid, etc.

I had extensive restorative dental work about 15 years ago, and it's all held up beautifully until last week. A back bottom molar (#18, if you are dentally inclined) that has had a root canal and a crown started becoming uncomfortable. The veneer had worn, and it was lower than the one in front of it, placing undue pressure on the tooth in front of it. Since I already had an appointment in January, I was hoping to limp it along until then, because as anyone knows who has had this type of work done, it's expensive, even with dental insurance. And it was annoying more than anything.

Splat! 

That was the sound of me hitting the windshield of an oncoming semi, in a figurative sense, of course.

To abbreviate a woeful, protracted tale, after a sleepless weekend, the root canal needed to be retreated, which I didn't even know was a possibility. Didn't you think that once you had a root canal, you were done with problems with that tooth? Then you were wrong, too! If the crown develops a leak, bacteria gets down in there and can wreak havoc. And oh, it did. I have an infection in my jaw, am on antibiotics, am still in pain, had to postpone my surgery until January. I have at least one more appointment with the endodontist, then I'll have to replace that crown. It's only money, right?

The good news? It's certainly kept me out of the Christmas goodies. I can't open my mouth wide enough to eat them, and if they're small enough to fit, I can't chew them. See? There's a silver lining in every wintry cloud.