So the dental surgery I've been mentioning off and on, is a second implant – the procedure where they pull the tooth that can no longer be saved, tuck a surgical steel post up into the root cavity, then, eventually, screw a fake tooth on the threaded end of the post.

It came as a huge surprise to me first time around that the implant procedure takes almost a year or, as my new, attractive, and young enough to be my son, orthodontic surgeon said, "You can't rush bone." (My old orthodontic surgeon said, "You have a remarkably small mouth for a woman your size.")( I like my new orthodontic surgeon better.)(Apparently, I also like typing orthodontic surgeon.) The bone, is bovine; a piece in my sinus to anchor the first implant and small pieces around the second implant to fill the root cavity. I could've had cadaver but I requested bovine. Seriously, it was an easy choice between corpse and cow. People with overactive imaginations do not need to have pieces of other people adhering to their skeletons if there's an option.

Also, it gives me an excuse to lean out of the truck window and moo at my bovine sisters as I drive pass. Fine. I don't actually need an excuse. Still doesn't hurt to have one.

I'm now at the stage where the stitches are gone – so I no longer feel like I can sift krill through the dangling ends – but the gums over the post isn't exactly healed. (What? Oh, they sew the gums back over the end of the post to keep food from getting up into the hole while the bone sets. Later, they'll cut the gums back to expose the end of the post. ) (Gum? It feels like it should be singular but it looks wrong when I write it that way.) Unfortunately, tender, surgically closed gums need to be treated with care for a lot longer than my attention span lasts. FYI, sunflower seeds, not a good idea.

In a just world, in the world where I'd have my flying car, all this surgery should've resulted in an iTooth entertainment unit. Or some kind of communications device like sergeants and above had in the Valor books. Here it is, 2013, and all I get is an ability to chew. Although, I suppose that's for the best; I like chewing and the odds are high that if I had a com unit in my jaw, I'd have it for less than a week before I lost the fracking charger.

I haven't been around much have I?  I mean, not in a public author blogging sort of a way.  So, as a New Year's resolution, I resolve to be around a bit more.  And yes,  you can post resolutions on the 3rd... no point in posting on the 1st, no one would have been here.

But, if y'all want me to be around and actually blogging more, here's what you have to do:  give me something to blog about.  Seriously, there's a limit to how much more the interwebs needs to know about cat vomit. (nine cats; I have a lot of stories)

Leave a topic, or a question, or a suggestion in the comments here and I resolve that I'll use four of them to blog four times in January.  No promises that I won't do it on the 26th to 30th but I will blog four times, in January.  Then, if it works, we'll do it again in February.  (and you can suggest cat vomit all you want -- don't think for a moment I don't realize that half you lot just snickered and said, "I know, I'll suggest cat vomit!" -- but it's dealer's choice and if I wanted to write about cat vomit, I wouldn't need outside suggestions)

Think that'll work?

My GP called this morning.  Apparently I've knocked off two 3 milimeter pieces of bone -- one from each side of my ankle.  She has no idea how I've managed to do that but one came off with a wrenched tendon and one with a ligament.  Right at the moment, there's nothing stabilizing my ankle so we're heading into the city this afternoon for a lace-up ankle brace.  Theoretically cooler than an air cast and much easier to walk in.

Six weeks to heal.

Given that the pain levels went from an 11 out of 10 on Sunday night (I got morphine; it was disappointing, didn't live up to its advance publicity at all) to about a 2 for the last couple of days, I was feeling pretty good before I spoke to the doctor.  Now I'm all paranoid.

At least the car, unlike the house, has air conditioning...

And bright side:  since my internet access is still really limited, I'm getting a lot of writing done.