being a father, fighting cancer
The pain stabbed through the fog of (local) anesthesia like an intruding sword. And in another split second, it was over. My bottom right molar had long given me trouble, and had been recommended, by more than one dentist, for extraction, with a bone graft and implant to replace it. However I haven’t been in a hurry to spend a couple grand, so I’d been putting this off for a few years.
Continue reading “Extraction”
“It’s cancer.”
Dr. Dobson’s eyes said it before her mask-covered mouth could say the words. Even in my post-biopsy-operative anesthesia haze, the words still hit me like a ton of bricks.
The bright side is, the Dr. explained, my children are safe, this cancer was not hereditary. No, this one was all my doing. A silver lining, however tiny, indeed.
Continue reading “Hypopharyngeal”