Primal Cuts

I’ll try to wind up this morbid streak I seem to be on.  Suffice it to say, I may not have been exaggerating about death or teeth, whichever comes first.  At this rate, it may be a close race, but I’m determined to die with teeth in my mouth if it kills me!  A multi-unit implant bridge (what I need) costs thousands of dollars, even with good insurance.  So that’s what I’ll be dealing with this whole coming year.  So much for my meager savings.

Specialists I’ve had to see or have lined up: periodontist, ENT, audiology, hematology/oncology, inner ear, endodontist, not to mention routine medical, dental, labwork, imaging, scans, and multiple vaccines.  I remind myself of a beef cut chart for butchers.  I’m sure they’ll try to add on more parts, like a droll reminder of my parents.  Gotta tighten the proverbial belt even more, and stay upbeat.

Compared to the above litany, my life at “the furry farm”, to coin a euphemism, is full of (mis)adventure and intrigue.  It sounds like I’ve been missing quite a lot of it.  I guess all the doctors are for rest and relaxation!?  One of these days I may even get back to the former life.  There’s a sukkah to be built.  Beer to be presided over.  Tempestuous kids to navigate.

Here are some cheery nostalgic flowers.



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