I had really hoped to die with those last two wisdom teeth. My mother lived to 89 without ever getting her wisdom teeth out. My top two are okay, but those bottom two were “Full Bony Impacted,” like the title of a horror story. My adrenaline rose whenever I thought of them, lying sideways, pushing against the molars next to them. Most people face the orthodontist in their youth, but we had no money then and they didn’t hurt, so why borrow the money to feel the pain?
But when I finally began taking care of my teeth (I was well into middle-age) my dentists kept suggesting it would be good to get them out. I kept ignoring them. I kept hoping I could have it my way. But, no. Finally, in September, my dentist of several years handed me a referral saying, “Now is the time. You need to get them out before they get infected and decay the teeth next to them.”
“Okay,” I said. And I filed the paper on the top of my desk. I have a book proposal to write, you know. I can’t be taking time off to recover from oral surgery!
Then insurance intervened. I had to get it done before the end of the year. So, as of 13 days ago, I’m free of the horror story. Almost free, anyway. The recovery has been more painful than I expected, but I’m almost through it now. No more looming dread. No more fear of the oral surgeon. It’s done.
Life is full of those things we hope to avoid but finally realize we must walk through. The price must be paid. The hard thing must be done. To love ourselves is to will our good, as Peter Kreeft defines love. It is a good thing to be free.
Jesus, thank you for grace to do what must be done.