Maybe I should try Joan Crawford's dentist.

Good afternoon!

I've just finished watching the first season of "Feud: Bette and Joan" on FX.  (I'm a little "meh" about the reported second season subjects, but let's focus.)  For those of you not familiar, this series followed the feud between film greats Bette Davis and Joan Crawford that existed for years, but came to a head during the filming of "Whatever happened to Baby Jane?"  (One of my very favorite classic films.)

Thanks to TCM  I've been able to see several of these ladies' work and yes, they were good on their own, but there's something special about "Baby Jane" and I'm pretty sure, now having seen the series, that it was the hate and the frustration that oozed out of them during filming.

Hollywood has never been kind to actresses of any age, especially those past 35, but what the industry did to these two talents was horrible.  Turns out, maybe they didn't hate each other all that much, maybe, just maybe the heated feud was fueled by the manipulation of the male dominated industry.

Whatever.  None of that is really important to my rant today.

Over a week ago I had a molar pulled.  It was one that had been shabbily crowned by a dentist who was just this short of a sadist.  (Last name was Hussein...I kid you not.)  the crown fell off several times and finally my current dentist said he could no longer reattach it. I could pay for another crown ($800) or I could have it pulled ($180) or I could do nothing. ($0)  I did nothing for about five years.  Then, if you recall an earlier blog this month, a chunk of said tooth feel out while I was eating, prompting me to go and get the thing pulled once and for all.

That was last week Monday.  Dentist assured me the residual pain would be limited, controlled by Advil. He wrote a prescription for hydrocodone just in case.  

I inhaled way too much Advil the first two days...filled the prescription...used just about all the pills in that...and it was only Friday.

So here we are, Tuesday.  I'm taking my body weight in Advil at this point.  My stomach, never a friend of swallowed pills, is revolting.  (nothing says "good morning" quite like barfing up chocolate ice cream, six advil, and the stomach acid pill you have to take every morning.)

I called the dentist yesterday and his aid told me that in most people the pain goes away in a week but in a few special cases it can last up to 14 or 15 days.  Oh, and taking mass quantities of Advil is FINE as long as we don't go beyond 21 days on that.

Well.  There you have it. I'm special.

And I'm really SOL if this goes beyond 21 days.

So last night I was catching up on some DVR stuff and I watched the final episode of Feud where Joan Crawford in her later years starts spitting blood when she brushes her teeth. She goes to her dentist who marvels at the fact that she's missing something like six molars.  (I'm missing one)  She tells him it was the style back in the 20's to yank the molars.  Without teeth back there, your cheeks sank in and you had great cheekbones.  (And yes, she had great cheekbones.)  She was told to get cheek implants to make herself more attractive on screen, but since she couldn't afford that, she did the tooth yanking thing.

What she didn't say was how long the pain lasted after the yanking.

One down, five to go to get this look.

So I'm thinking, hey, she got like six molars pulled and she didn't gripe about the pain, so maybe there wasn't much AND she got great cheekbones.  I had one pulled, I've got face and stomach pains for days, and no, nothing has happened to my cheeks except my left one is a little swollen.

I could get on board with better cheekbones, you know, to balance out my double chin.

I wonder if Joan Crawford's dentist is still around...

It's a FREE ELSIE W Weekend!

Heads up all!

Today, tomorrow, and Sunday ONLY get my latest release, "NOT WHILE I'm CHEWING" for free when you download it from Amazon!



CLICK HERE TO GET IT FREE!



Need to know what it's about?  Here you go:

My name is Sarah. I work in a small office.

The only other woman in the office is an unintentionally hilarious disaster of a human being. Every workday, I witness and chronicle her complete lack of social awareness, her non-stop eating, and her skewed concept of a work ethic.

I call her Elsie W.

These are her stories.

What you are about to read is true. Only the names and locations have been changed to protect the innocent (namely, me).



Oh, and unlike the Coen Brothers and their wonderful series "Fargo"...when I say it's all true...I MEAN IT!  

CLICK HERE TO GET IT FOR FREE!

Five for Friday (On Saturday) Who are the people in YOUR neighborhood?

Good morning!

So last weekend we had pretty much the best weather Wisconsin can expect.  It was breezy and in the low 70's with plenty of sun and just a hint of humidity.

We get about six days a year like that and almost NEVER two in a row and really NEVER on a weekend.

So, encouraged by my sis-in-law, Janie, (not her real name of course) I took a couple walks to try and clear my head from my procedure on Thursday.  (It is shocking to me just how run down I've felt since the Gut and Butt special, like I'm walking through water.)


My walk on Saturday, one I took alone, brought to might the old Sesame Street song, "Who are the people in your neighborhood?"   I loved that song when I was a kid and again when my kids were little.  We'd sing it all the time and then look for people like postal delivery people, firefighters, police, shopkeepers.

My walk last Saturday revealed nothing like that.

No, here are the people in my neighborhood:

1)  Angry Hoarder Woman who decorates her house so nicely for every season, but screams at little children to "shut the F*** up!" when they are outside.  Last Saturday she put cute light up bunnies in her window, once again making people think she's a lovely person.

2)  The girl in the picture window...sitting on the wide window sill, hidden from those in the house by
a curtain. What was she doing?  Wiping boogers on the window.  Sort of like "A  Beautiful Mind"  But with boogers instead of complex math problems. 

3)  Wheelchair Guy down the street put up all his Easter decorations, which got New Neighbor of Wheelchair Guy to put up their decorations.  Now, Wheelchair Guy does a huge display every season with lights and inflatables.  (I didn't know there were inflatable Easter eggs.  Of course, he got two...which sort of look like giant pastel color boobs.)  Neighbor of Wheelchair Guy...not so much.  They put a plastic lit bunny circa 1962 in the front yard.  Next year they need to up their game.

4)  Motor Avenue speedway drivers...something you'll never see on Sesame Street. Motor Ave between S. Moreland and Washington is about three blocks long and has stop signs on either end.  But it does not matter which end you want to cross, the people turning onto and off of Motor Ave do not stop at the stop signs, and they look upon pedestrians as prey to be hunted down and crushed.  

5) And then there was Lilly-Bug.  Lilly-bug and her family live in one of the newer homes on Dresser, at the top of a hill.  I only mention that to let people know I walked up a hill.  Lilly-bug and her friend/sister/cousin are very young, very cute girls, probably 3 or 4, and a sunny Saturday they were doing what most kids that age do...they were drawing pretty pictures with sidewalk chalk.  The dads were in charge of watching the girls while moms were inside making dinner. How do I know all this?  Well, one mom stuck her head out of the door and said, "Dinner is ready."  Whereupon one of the dads says, "Okay Lilly-Bug time to go in and eat."  Lilly-Bug, as a normal little kid, was having fun and didn't move right away.  Dad then said, "Lilly-Bug come on...don't you want to eat some fruit?"  That's when I looked at Lilly-Bug and realized that no, she wasn't interested in food, fruit or otherwise.  See, Lilly-Bug had already eaten...and I think the purple is her favorite flavor of chalk. 


 So there you go.  Not exactly Sesame Street, no.  But entertaining all the same.

Reposting a Favorite: Bless the Lord, oh my Snot.

Hello all, good morning!  I'm in the process of writing a fresh, new blog that involves booger wiping and chalk eating, but last night's choir practice reminded me WAY too much of one of my favorite blogs, one I've rerun before, but always seems to be fitting this time of year.  This is for the front row of my church's senior choir, (including me),  who is fighting to get through Easter this week.

Good evening.

We've established that I am, at best, an uninspiring singer.  The fact that I've been in a church choir almost my entire life doesn't not mean I have any special talent, other than being able to read music and make some sort of sound come out of my face.

Nope, we don't look this good.

For the last several years I've sung in our church's "Senior Choir."  In the last year, we've tried, as an ever shrinking group as members of said choir die or move to Florida, to reinvent ourselves.  We are now the "Adult Choir."

Yeah, we're the old farts of the congregation.

So tonight at a mid week Lenten service  (and I don't expect too many folks out there to understand exactly why my church has Wednesday night church during Lent.  We just do.) the Adult Choir was to sing two songs.

Now, the ladies of the soprano section, of which I am one, tend to get colds...a lot.  And we aren't very good at those really high notes.  We can hit them, but them you better play something loud because the next sound you hear will be every single soprano coughing, gagging, or clearing their throat.  The Hallelujah Chorus sounded like a consumption clinic when we sang it a few years ago.

The two songs we were to sing weren't that hard.  It's Lent.  Stuff is low key and quiet.  We do really well with low key and quiet.  Unfortunately for the sopranos, we once again were all sick.  Oh, my cold just started, which means I'm in the runny nose, random nasal clog phase.

I loaded up on decongestants before the service and figured I would be able to stay clog free for the 56 minute service.  Nope.

Could somebody just make one
of these for me?  Please?

About halfway through the sermon, my right nostril closed.  You know the feeling.  It's closed, nothing's coming in.  But plenty is rolling out.  Oh yes, I was suddenly a drain pipe for that really annoying, completely pointless snot that just runs down your face and you can't suck it back up into your head because your nostril is closed.  And you go through about fifty tissues in a minute because it won't stop running.

Yeah, about four minutes before our second song, that happened to me.  BUT, my good friend...let's call her Alexis, who has sat next to me in choir for almost twenty years, got hit with a sneezing fit a minute before the song.  Next to her, dear, sweet Rosie couldn't stop coughing.  In the back row, well, let's just say those girls were attacked by phlegm in the throat.

We managed to get through the song...watery eyed, runny nosed, and coughing at the end of every phrase.  But we did it.

That's not a puddle.  The sopranos just warmed up
right there.

Five for Friday: How NOT to injure yourself and insult others while prepping for a colonoscopy.

Good afternoon all!

So my doctor decided recently that since I'm anemic, the issue of low blood iron clearly lies somewhere deep inside...either my colon or my small intestine.  

To that end, he scheduled a colonoscopy and an endoscopy for me.

I will be looking for a new doctor.  LOL

The blessed event happened yesterday, but as some of you may know, there is a prep period for both procedures.  The prep for an endoscopy:  Fast starting at midnight before your scope.  Show up on time. Bring ID.

The prep for a colonoscopy is a little more detailed, and thusly I bring you today's five for Friday!

5)  Fasting.

Okay, this is arguably the worst part of the prep.  It was for me.  Basically, you can't eat solid food, or anything that's not clear, for 36 hours before your test.  But it's worse than that.  You have to cut out nuts, popcorn, veggies, fruits, fiber, and pretty much anything with flavor 24 hours before T

HAT.  So you're on a tasteless, fiberless diet for 24 h ours, and then clear liquids after that.  (And that last 36 hours makes you dream of the previous 24.)

Now I'm a fluffy girl.  I don't fast.  I barely diet.  At first the clear liquid diet is funny:  You know, broth, jello that's not red, blue, or purple, tea, coffee (without any creamer) and...that's pretty much it.

When talking to the nurse about my prep. I suggested that vodka was a clear liquid. She agreed, but responded that I should be moderate in my vodka consumption. The packet I was given  (more on that later) suggested I NOT partake of any alcohol.  

Four hours before your procedure you're not supposed to take ANYTHING by mouth.  Now, most people aren't bothered by this because they are able to schedule their scope for early in the morning and they get a good night's sleep and are therefore blissfully unconscious for the worst of the hunger.  

Not me.  I did not sleep at all the night prior to my scope.  Around 1 AM my children made  a frozen pizza and I begged them if I could just lick it.  (The grease on the top of the pizza looked clear enough.)  They laughed at me.  I'm going to put ex-lax in their Easter baskets.

The thing is, I couldn't sleep because the prep med schedule is so...weird.  I was worried I'd forget a step and not get cleaned out enough to get the scope done and then I'd have to do it all over again.  (Which is also the argument hubby made with I asked if I could just eat a little of the pot roast I'd made for dinner.  It should be noted, he was eating a full bowl of pot roast and enjoying it.  I may put ground up ex lax in his coffee this weekend and call it a "mocha")

There are pills you have to take and then there's the liquid prep. They tell you to drink fluids all day long.  8 ounces of fluids every hour. And then...the prepping hour, the stuff I called "the goo."  It's not actually goo.  It's Gatorade mixed with Miralax.  A LOT OF Miralax.  I drank 14 daily servings of miralax in TWO SITTINGS.  

Here's how this works. Two days before your test you take a pill laxative. They don't tell you this will pretty much blow out any back up you have in your system or that an innocent sneeze might turn into a laundry nightmare.  They won't tell you that.  But I will.  The next day you take another pill. This time anything left in your body that hasn't turned to liquid fires out.  One hour after that you drink the first of the goo. 32 ounces downed in an hour.  (It tastes like someone added blades of grass to yellow Gatorade.)  45 seconds after that, your body begins producing what I consider to be the early stages of Soylent Green.  (It's PEOPLE!).  All this while only being able to eat chicken broth and green or yellow jello.  (I don't like either color.)

A couple years ago my friend Marie went through a colonoscopy and she said, "Now I know why those people on Survivor seem so stupid.  Going without food affects your ability to make decisions."

I could not agree with her more.  I mean, I was in a comfortable house, I had indoor plumbing and comforting bum wipes readily available.  And no one was asking me to drag a bag through a maze, swim 200 yards, and do a puzzle.  After going through all of this, I have a new appreciation for just how evil Mark Burnett and Jeff Probst are.

You spend hours thinking about what you're going to eat when you are finally done fasting.  My first meal with an Einstein Brothers toasted Asiago cheese bagel with Veggie shmear and a coffee followed up with two pieces of extra crispy KFC.  Best food ever.

4)  Post goo prep time is alone time.

Once you've started consuming the liquid death, plan to spend time alone.  If you have an en suite bathroom, that's the best.  I lit candles, loaded the bathroom with plenty of reading material, picked out movies I knew very well so that I didn't get too wrapped up in the plot to not go when I had to go.  (I also picked Civil War flicks...lots of noise. Drowned out the bathroom noises.)


Everything that comes out of you...and it's a lot...will be liquid.  Not loose stools.  Nope. Liquid.  And there's no warning fart or anything to let you know it's time to go. Now, some people just sit on the toilet for the duration, but that becomes uncomfortable and your feet go numb. So, if your bed is close to your commode, just be ready to unload at any slightest twinge of your lower body. 

Oh and fun fact...when you're prepping, really, no one wants to talk to you.  Not at all.  hubby celebrated that he got the TV with the cable all to himself and when I came out, he looked a little...insulted.  But at least he talked to me.  The kids spent some time avoiding me.  Granted, all I wanted to talk about was how hungry I was and how my bowels were now expelling something that looked a lot like Gatorade.  Still, they could have been more sympathetic.  Hubby suggested he sleep on the couch. I said, "I'm not sick...I'm prepping."  So he slept in the bed.  I spent the night dozing on the couch and wandering around in a haze of hunger and dehydration.

The packet  (more on that later) instructs you to drink half the goo at 5 Pm before your scope and the other half 6 hours before your scope. In my case, this was 4 AM.  So...I was so worried I'd miss this time (or I'd miss the tiny twinge while sleeping) that I didn't sleep at all the night before.  That's right...I was up from 6 AM Wednesday morning until 2 Pm after my scope.  I'm too old for that.

It's a long, lonely night when you're wandering around, drinking tea and eating green jello and looking at stuff in the fridge wondering if you could pulverize it into a clear liquid.


3) The Packet

Once you've scheduled your colonoscopy, you get a raft of emails and texts regarding the test.  I scheduled that thing two months ago.  The day after I scheduled it  I got an email telling me to purchase my prep packet.  


Purchase.

I'm an idiot, so rather than finding out what was in the packet and saving myself almost $20, I instead bought the packet which was sent to me with detailed instructions.

In the package were the following:  10 pages of directions.  5 laxative pills.  1 bottle of miralax.  2 packets of powdered Gatorade.  three packets of powered soup mix.  A box of lemon jello powder.  five little packets of wipes that look like, but are NOT, fruit snack strips.  (In the throes of my hunger I nearly tore one open and ate it.)

$31.

Yep.

$31.

I ignored the prep packet until it was almost too late.  I opened it on Monday and realized I was already not adhering to the tasteless diet.

I read and reread the instructions.  I cancelled a dentist appointment (the one to fix the tooth that fell out during my trip to Door County.) because after taking the first laxative I realized there was no way I was leaving the house.

I made the soup mix.  I didn't make the jello. I made my own green jello.  And now I'll never eat chicken broth or green jello ever again.  At least, not for the next ten years.

2) Blame it on the lack of food if you somehow imply the nurses are sexy.

I checked with Peaches on this one, and she says I'm okay, but I still feel like I had an uncomfortable moment with at least two of the dozen nurses I came in contact with the day of the procedure.  

First of all there's a team of nurses who all have one duty and they tell you their name, do the duty and you never see them again.  There was the nurse who weighed me and then told me to take all my clothes off except my socks and my bra.  Very sexy look.  Then there was the woman who was supposed to get my IV started.  She stuck me in at least three places  (And all of them hurt) before she settled on the vein on the top of my right hand. 

Then there was Karen, the nurse who fixed my IV because it was leaking all over my hand.  Again, that hurt...a lot.

After that, I think there was a Bonnie, maybe a Kathy, I'm not sure just how many other nurses got all in my face, (At this point I had no glasses, having signed the paper that swore I WAS NOT PREGNANT, I no longer hand any need to read.  So why did they bother wearing name tags?)  and chirped their name while performing one task.

I think it was Karen who rolled me down the hall in what I thought was the worst parade ever.  (This was before they gave me any kind of sedation.)  I felt I should wave, but I had way too many cords and tubes and whatnot attached to both my arms.  

I was parked in an operating room where two new nurses started pushing me into position and putting more stuff on me.  We chatted about children and jobs and plans for lunch and all of that.  Which is when I burst out with this:

"This has got to be the sexist branch of medicine ever."

Again this was BEFORE I got any sedation meds.

Nose Cannula nurse stared at me as if I'd suddenly grown two heads.  That's when I realized I'd probably just implied that I found the nurses sexy.  Now, they were very nice ladies, and they were tidy and clean and all that, but um....that wasn't my point.

I explained.  "I mean, you're sticking scopes down throats and up fannies all day."

Nose cannula nurse relaxed a little and laughed.  "I suppose."

Then I quoted my mother..."Mom always says, 'it's a good thing someone wants to do this.' "

That is literally the last thing I remember.  I'm pretty sure Nose Cannula nurse told the other nurse to plug me full of meds to shut me up.

1)  Some people are fun when they wake up. Apparently I'm annoying and not at all interesting.

Skippy had an endoscopy on Monday and when he came out of his anesthesia everyone loved him. He giggled, he offered discounted pizza to everyone, he was the life of the party.

Apparently, the only thing anyone can say about me is that I repeated myself several times and kept asking what time it was...to the point that Peaches, who I didn't even SEE until 12 hours after my procedure, scolded me for telling her something that Hubby said I'd talked about several times with him.  WELL!

Oh, and seriously, while everyone looked at Skippy's pictures of his clean esophagus and small intestine, no one wanted to look at my pictures.  And my colon is CLEAN!  (They found ulcers in my esophagus.  Nothing to worry about, they tell me.)

You know what, my next step in tracking down why I'm anemic is to go to a GYN specialist. Just for that, I'm not sharing anything with any of the people I live with. HA! That will teach them, because I

just BET that's going to be a SUPER interesting appointment.

Foodie rule: When you choke on your own tooth, it's time to go home.

Good afternoon!  

How can it be almost a month since I blogged last?  Oh yes, I've been SICK!  How sick?  Well, I managed to binge watch 6 seasons of "House MD" without once thinking I had any of the ailments on the show.  THAT'S plenty sick enough for me.  And this disease I did have, this massive cough, congestion, loss of appetite, loss of voice, loss of will to move...I'm still getting over it.  I went two weeks without putting on eyeliner or shoes.  (I'm actually amazed at how far I devolved during my time of illness!)

But I've recovered now, at least well enough to go on a little bit of a winter get away with Hubby.  (I realize it's April, but up here in Wisconsin, winter get aways can happen deep into May.)  We headed up to Door County, a touristy place north of Green Bay, for a couple days.

Door County is one of those places that has an off season. Like the Wisconsin Dells, or Paris. (At least I'm told Paris sort of shuts down in August.  And since someone who lives and works in Paris told me that, I guess I take it as truth.)  Typically this means that the things you're going up to see and do aren't going to be open.   But in the last few years, Door County, like many other places that rely on tourism, has figured out a way to draw people up there no matter what the weather.

One word:  alcohol.

It's become quite stylish to hit the wineries of Door County (and there are MANY) to taste and enjoy local wines, and distilled beverages while staying in a hotel room and watching lousy weather roll by.  This is exactly what Hubby and I planned.  Although, being foodies, we added that in as well.

We managed two wineries, Door 44 and Door Penninsula Winery.  We did a wine tasting at Door 44 (and subsequently spent way too much money on wine).  I enjoyed both, but I think the edge has to go to Door Penninsula Winery.  Why?  Well, bottle prices were lower, they offered distilled beverages in addition to wine, there was a larger selection and...most importantly...their strawberry zin took me back to my college days of drinking Boones Farm Tickle Pink.

Ahhhhh, the memories.

Hubby outdid himself with booking a room.  I mean, if I'm booking a room I start with the mantra "I'm not paying more than $50 a night." and work from there.  Hubby booked with an eye towards...romance...and comfort.  We stayed at the Edgewater Resort in Ephraim/Sister Bay.  This wasn't a hotel room...no, this was a place I wanted to move in and live for the rest of my life!  Full kitchen, double sided fireplace, TWO TVs!!!!!!!!!!!  Oh, and a giant whirlpool tub!  All of the rooms

face the water, but if you're going to book, ask for room 216.  Best of all, the ICE MAKER in the freezer worked so well I was never without ICE!  (Well done Hubby!)

The weather cooperated well enough. We had sunshine two of three days up there, so we were able to hike in the state park, which was lovely.  (And good for my fit bit).

Food is always a big part of our trips (Duh...look at us) and Door County did not disappoint.  Since we had a kitchen, we stopped at a local grocery store and got fixings for a rustic cheese and sausage dinner for both nights, which saved a ton of money.  Breakfast and lunch was out and about.  And boy, did we find some off season gems!

It started with soup.  I love soup.  Seriously...if there's such a thing as a soup addiction, I have it.  So when I checked out the lunch menu at Shipwrecked Brew Pub in Egg Harbor and I saw "seafood chowder" I was all about it!  And I WAS NOT disappointed!  ( I also recommend the cheese curds and the cherry/berry crumble. Portions are huge, service is fast, and the place is CUTE!  

Breakfast both mornings in Door County was at the one place open near our hotel:  Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant and Butik.  This place has it all!  Swedish pancakes to die for, Swedish meatballs FOR BREAKFAST, a super cute little gift shop, and, in the summer months, GOATS ON
THE ROOF!  You read that right.  Goats.  On the grassy roof of the restaurant.  While it's hard to miss in the summer, you have to keep a slightly sharper eye out in the winter months. Well, not really.  Just look for the cars.  I love Swedish pancakes, but I've never really had them until now, and I'll probably only ever eat them here from now on!  Al Johnson's is a place where the regulars gather, so you know the food is good, and eavesdropping on conversations is fun and informative. Probably better than a local newspaper.  

But the gold star place that took it all was Czarnuszka Soup Bar in Ephraim.  After a day of hiking, we were overjoyed to find this little place tucked just off the main road.  The menu is limited to, you guessed it, soup and maybe a sandwich, whatever Mr. Czarnuszka feels like making.  Personally, I recommend the kielbasa and cabbage. Sounds weird, I know, but it's quite possibly the best soup I've ever eaten!


( I should mention that the little shack next door to the soup bar is currently for sale. Someone needs to send me $75K so I can live the dream of living next door to never ending soup!)

We hit the Green Bay Packer Hall of Fame, because that's what you do when you're on your way home from Door County.  Exhausted and loaded down with possibly a couple too many bottles of wine, we made one more foodie stop.

Il Ritrovo is a personal favorite for Hubby and me.  Wood fired pizza, unbelievable appetizers, and a tiramisu that makes all other tiramisus want to run away and hide.  Seriously delicious, fresh, and not too pricey.  I'd been looking forward to biting

into a lovely piece of that pizza since the day Hubby told me he was planning this weekend.

So imagine my surprise, after everything we'd eaten, when, while taking one small bite of a not at all hard piece of pizza, I started choking on something very hard.

Yes, it was one of my teeth.

Well, actually it was a part of a tooth.  See, several years ago I had a crown put on my back upper molar on the right.  The crown slipped off a couple times, and my dentist (who did not make the original crown) sealed it back on. When it fell off a third time, my dentist told me that he couldn't make a proper seal and that I should either get a new crown ($700) or get the tooth pulled ($180)  or do nothing.  ($0)  We've been in a holding pattern for a number of years. Last time I was in, a year ago, I told him to pull it.  He said there was still quite a bit of tooth left and if it wasn't causing problems I still had plenty of time on it before we had to pull it.

NOT NO MORE I DON'T!

In a true, "It can only happen to Sarah" moment, the whole center of the tooth stub broke off and nearly killed me.

Okay, that might be a little dramatic.

Still.  That was my signal it was time to get home and stay home for a while.  And I think that's a good rule of thumb:  When you choke on your own tooth, it's time to go home.

The tooth isn't causing any pain.  But I figured I should call my dentist and get this looked at.  Funny thing is, he was at a conference all day Monday. So If I can't get in on Tuesday or Wednesday I'm stuck with a tooth rim in my face because on Thursday...wait for it...I go in for what I like to call the GUT AND BUTT SCOPE SPECIAL.

That's right. I'm getting an endoscopy AND a colonoscopy all in one day.  Watch for the blog on THAT!

#donthatemebecauseImawesome