This morning I prayed. Yes, prayed. A strange man and two strange women were pricking me with a needle, struggling to find the right place to prick.
Luckily, I woke up.
Here I am now, praying that my wife's agonizing experience with her wisdom teeth removal recovery will somehow allow me to be excused from things like separation from solid food, hellish oral agony, and of course, dry sockets. The first wish has already escaped me.
I'll be back tomorrow with an update on my status.
Crap, I just realized that there's an apple pie in my fridge and ice cream in my freezer. Depression has set in.
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