The Rule of Twos

Two days later and two teeth fewer (Surgeon: "Sooo... whaddya think, ya wanna pull 'em now?" Me: "Uh, sure, why not! Raaaawwwrr!"), I am almost ready for action. Let me tell you, I handled that bloody mouth better than Bruce Willis in Die Hard 172 (whatever). Despite some ongoing irritation, the offending molar and its buddy have been effectively terminated. (Two more await death-by-dentist, but that's another story.)

Oh, mandibles. So exciting!

And apparently, it's the most exciting thing to happen in a while here in Boston. I had called my boss from the office when I found out I'd spontaneously have my wisdom teeth pulled and told just her I wouldn't be coming in that day, with apologies, of course.

Today at work, everyone at the office -- from fellow intern to the research assistant to the grants lady that just came back from vacation to the chief operating financial guy (I know -- ?¿!) -- approached me and inquired with earnest concern about my dental welfare, adding in a teary memory or two of their own.

Pleasant surprise (told you the folks were nice). After all, I suppose, it is indeed an organization dedicated to social medicine. Big and small.