There I am, in my dentist’s office, mouth full of gauze, trying to tell him and his receptionist about Steve Jobs’ last words.   It is reliably reported Jobs’ last words  before he died were:  Oh Wow! Oh Wow! Oh Wow!   What I am waiting to hear about is the expression on his face as he said those words.

I had finally screwed up my courage to make a dentist appointment to have an errant root removed that was breaking through my gum and annoying my denture.  My regular dentist had been quite ill but I like his son, Dr. Ron, quite well  who undertook the project.  First came the injection of anesthetic, three shots, the one into the palate being the most painful.  Then the x-ray:  The root is in two parts, one part still in the jawbone and another  sliver that is projecting out.  The actual removal doesn’t hurt at all – only a crunchy feeling as the big part separates from the bone, then the sliver just slips out.  Then a good long wait  biting down on gauze and the final dismissal, biting down on fresh gauze.  There didn’t seem to be much bleeding.

I drove home and removed the gauze.  Still no real bleeding.  I was really hungry since I had lost my appetite in anticipation of my ordeal.  I warmed up some soup and slurped that down, then ate a Greek yogurt, with honey (yum) and tumbled into bed, fully clothed except for shoes.

After that, who knows?  I finally woke at 3 AM to go to the bathroom.  Face is feeling real good.  No pain unless I seriously scrunch my face.   Lips dry; apply Vaseline.   My backdoor was still unlocked.  After warming up a cup of Ovaltine, with a mocha touch, I found four Scrabble games waiting on the computer.  I won two of them, made good moves on the other two, and went back to bed, still clothed, hoping to go back to sleep.


I did sleep until 4:30.  All the fascinating O’Reilly Factor stuff that I missed the night before is right there waiting for me.  Nice that they repeat last night’s show again in the morning.

A glimpse into the secret life of an old lady — just for you.  If I didn’t write about it, how would you know?


Cowards die a thousand times before their death.  The valiant only taste of death but once. —  Shakespeare