Not only did the wrath of my girlie parts come back to haunt me as I predicted they would RIGHT BEFORE THE MARATHON, I had a dental appointment. And what was supposed to be a routine cleaning ended up with a psycho telling me he was going to drill holes in my jawbone and implant permanent teeth.
Long story short, I never grew two permanent molars, so when I was sixteen I had the baby teeth removed and bridges put in their place. It’s very tragic genetic deformity, although sadly, it never qualified me for handicapped parking at the mall.
So, ummm, nooooo, even though the current bridges are rotting and cracked, I don’t think this jaw drilling thing is gonna happen.