Home on a Friday
I’m home today because I had my lower wisdom teeth extracted yesterday. #’s 17 and 32, I think. I guess they will end up in a landfill somewhere, only to be discovered centuries later by archeologists who will be forced to assume that a strange colony of two-toothed humanoids once inhabited the garbage dumps of early 21-century America. If my spelling and homonym switching are worse than normal today, it is because I am on narcotics. My brain and my fingers are even less coordinated than usual. But what better time to write a blog post?
I probably should have had these teeth removed years ago. My upper wisdom teeth were extracted sometime in 2004. One of those teeth was so bad off that it actually broke in two in my mouth. This sounds painful, but it actually brought a great deal of relief. However, the tooth had incredibly bad timing.
In the Fall of 2003 I did an internship at the Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, DC where Mark Dever is the pastor. One part of the internship is to accompany Mark and the staff to a conference. The conference that our group got to attended was the Desiring God National Conference celebrating the 300th anniversary of Jonathan Edwards’s birth (I think). Since Mark was one of the speakers, he and his entire entourage were invited to have lunch at John Piper’s house on Sunday afternoon after the conference was over. I was pretty blown a way that we were going to John Piper’s house, a personal hero of mine. Even more remarkable was that J. I. Paker and Iain Murray was going to be there. I think Don Whitney was there too, and possibly Sam Storms.
However, as I sat in a chair in the corner of the living room, eating my bowl of beef stew, I was undergoing the most intense tooth pain. This tooth had bothered me on and off for months. The pain would be pretty bad for a few minutes, but it would always subside. But this time seemed even worse. I was trying my best to be cheerful and think of something insightful to talk to about with these great, godly men. No seminary nerd can resist the temptation of trying to impress someone he thinks is important. But all of my mental energy was consumed with trying to appear normal. It is probably for the best though, as I would have probably just said something sycophantic and embarrassing.
But my ever-resourceful mouth had another avenue of embarassment to pursue. Just as the theologians were wrapping up lunch, the pain was reaching a crescendo, and my tooth actually broke off in my mouth. This was alarming. I had no idea where the bathroom was, and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. So discretely as possible, I fished the tooth out of my mouth and slipped it into my pocket, unsure of the dental ramifications. To my surprise, there was no bleeding and the pain almost instantly stopped. I was disconcerted, but extremely thankful to be somewhat back to normal.
At this point the theologians made their way over from the big people table to the living room where all of the interns were eating. They were all very gracious, as we circled around them, smiling awkwardly. I think I talked to Iain Murray for a second, and maybe shook J. I. Packer’s hand. No profound questions were asked, that I recall. And after a few minutes, I excused myself to take a phone call from my good friend Mark Steinbach who was in Indiana at the time. I know it seems like a dumb move to talk on the cell phone instead of J. I. Packer, but given the awkwardness and the trauma of the afternoon, I was more than happy to have a reason to step outside and talk to someone I knew.
The story of losing the wisdom teeth yesterday is much less exciting, although once I came out of sedation, Lindsay says I had a crazy look in my eye and was saying all kinds of strange things. I’m always worried that in those situations I will say something wierd or unseemly to the medical professionals. I’m sure they are used to it, but it is disconcerting to be so out of control of your faculties. Thankfully the recovery is going well. I still have just a little numbness in my lower lip, but it isn’t too bad. And the hydrocodone is doing its job very well. Now I’m going to finish recuperating by laying on the couch and playing fetch with Gus.
