In less than 17 hours, I will be 37 years-old. I was born at 11:00pm. The same exact time that the Biafran War ended. My mother woke up the next morning to bells ringing in the streets of Lagos, Nigeria. She said that her most distinct memory of the birth was the fact that nurses kept coming in to tell her that the war had ended when she gave birth. Apparently, I was a sign of peace. Irony.
I still don't know what I want for my birthday. I still don't want anything. But I did get something I didn't really expect to get yesterday. I got a root canal. Actually, it was more of a partial root canal. I have to go back to finish it in two weeks because I have to "heal" before they continue. Then, I have to heal again for about a month before I go back to get a crown for the tooth. I'm actually fine with it all since this tooth has been chipped forever and I want to have it whole again. I consider it a birthday present for myself. I know, I'm bizarre.
The root canal itself wasn't bad. The endodontist was cute. He was very friendly. Plus he took this metal thing that had a thin rubber sheet stretched over it and used it to keep my mouth open. Kinky. It took all of 30 minutes. It took me longer to get to his office.
I am looking forward to going back and getting the entire procedure over with. Then, I can go back to my dentist and get the crown. And have the whole tooth again. And not have to constantly floss to remove food stuck in the chipped area. Or is it that I just want that rubber-covered metal-thing stretching my mouth to kingdom-come? Hmmmmm.