I have an appointment scheduled for oral surgery.

While I view that glorious date (August 3!) and am counting down the days (10) to permanent relief from these pains in my mouth, the morbid side of me wonders if I’m counting down the days to my death.

People die in surgery.

I’m not trying to be over dramatic, and I’m not freaking about it in my usual Holly-freaks-out-about-everything way, but I’m trying to be realistic, which I often am.

I’m an optimistic realist.

So yeah, I’m optimistically expecting to wake up from my IV sedation groggy and in more mouth pain that will lead to less mouth pain.

And realistically, this could be the last 10 days of my life if I don’t wake up.

That means I’ve got a lot of living to do in the next 2,400 hours.