Do you know who I think should be rounded up and pushed onto an island somewhere, never to return? All the good-looking people who are also very nice.
Good looking people I can cope with. Nice people I can cope with. But good-looking, nice people are obviously out of control and need to be stopped.
My periodontist is a good-looking, very nice person. I imagine he is probably very fondly thought of by a number of his female patients, and for all I know, some of his male ones as well.
Yes, the picture gets a little skewed by the fact that he’s a complete sadist when he gets his hands in your mouth and he’s torturing you to find out where the diamonds are hidden. Or, at least, this is what I imagine is happening when I have to see him, because that’s a thousand percent more interesting than gum problems.
However, some good news about this update:
Apparently the tooth may not be beyond all hope, and we are progressing as if it has a long and happy life ahead of it of lurking in the upper back right of my mouth, where it belongs.