One More Thing

Today was - I hope - the last awful thing on my schedule for this cursed year. I had to have a molar pulled. A trip to the oral surgeon, just to put a cherry on top of the worst year of my life. I still can’t believe it. After everything I’ve already been dragged through, there I was again, lying back in another exam chair, bracing for another procedure I never wanted.

Right now I’m sitting at home with gauze in my mouth and an ice pack on my face. They were kind, they were gentle, they did a good job. But none of that changes the simple truth that I am worn down to the core. As soon as I sat in the chair I started crying. Not from fear of the tooth extraction, but because I am so exhausted from 2025. My body is still reeling from the laparoscopic surgery ten days ago. That one completely flattened me. I’m still struggling with this recovery - but it is improving. And then I had to walk straight into another medical appointment and brace for more pain. It was too much.

At least the surgeon told me I made the right decision. This tooth had an old root canal and the tip of the root had fractured. There was infection deep in the bone that would never clear without pulling it. And the one tiny piece of good news - it didn’t go into my sinuses. If it had, I’d be staring down yet another surgery. So that small mercy is something I’ll take.

Even with that, I’m beaten up. I feel mauled by 2025, like I’ve been shoved from one crisis into the next without ever catching my breath. And I’m afraid to hope that this is the final hit. Every time I’ve thought the worst was over, something else has slammed into me.

I keep wondering what I did to deserve a year like this. Maybe nothing. Maybe the universe just picked a target and I happened to be standing still. This year feels cursed. So if someone has my voodoo doll or put a hex on me, I’m asking for a break. And today, with a swollen face, stitches in my mouth, and a body that still feels rearranged from surgery, that’s all I want. A break. A real one.