Merde!

Something rough appeared on the edge of one of my lower front teeth yesterday. Wearing my 200x reading glasses and using a 5x magnifying mirror, I can see what appears to be roughly half the size of a grain of salt—Morton's finest, not good Kosher. There is no pain. I was at the dentist only a month or so ago and had full x-rays. There's nothing wrong with my tooth. The end of my tongue is raw from worrying this tiny imperfection.

According to The Big Necessity: The Unmentionable World of Human Waste and Why It Matters, 2.6 billion people lack sanitation in the world today, including 1.7 million in the U.S. (Lacking sanitation is defined as no outhouse, bucket, or box.) The number of children killed by diarrhea exceeds that number killed in armed conflict since WWII, 90% of them by fecal contamination of food or water. Cholera and typhoid (diseases caused by contaminated water) kill enough children every four hours to fill two jumbo jets.

My closest friend here in MO went to the hospital in terrible pain late Sunday. After a thorough exam including CT scans, the doctors gave her morphine and sent her home to hospice care. She turned 54 in December.

Perhaps I should get my tongue off my tooth and my head out of my ass about using the "right" pictures in Katie's cookbook. Maybe, just maybe, I could get a freakin' grip.

Holistic healers have had my friend on an extremely restrictive diet for several years—no caffeine, no sugar, no white flour, no chocolate. I'm on my way over there this morning, taking the Earl Grey tea and chocolate dipped macaroons she requested. We're going to read poetry aloud and watch movies on DVD, including her beloved Enchanted April.

Oh, shit.