THREE MONTHS TO LIVE

"He is a wise man who does not grieve for the
things which he has not, but rejoices
for those which he has."

Epictetus (AD 55- AD 135),

"Three years ago they told me that I had only three months to live."

She was a hospice patient wearing a shimmering purple satin robe, with a matching turban wrapped around her bald head. She was surprisingly calm, lying flat on a gurney, the IV medicaments slowly dripping into her forearm; she was too weak to sit up in a wheel chair. I introduced myself and inquired about her dental concern.

She spoke in a soft, wispy voice, "I was diagnosed with terminal kidney cancer. I am only fifty years old and have two teenage daughters. I sank into a major depression. I began to mentally rehearse; what did I have to accomplish if I only had three months to live and what do I never have to do again. Finally, great joy filled my body when I realized that if I had only three months to live, I would never have to go to the dentist again.”

Her eyes glowed as I smiled.

"Now, three years later, the back molar on my right side is causing me a lot of pain, so now I am back, dammit"
I checked and there was not much bone supporting the tooth. I suggested that extraction seemed the best solution. She seemed to be relieved, and we scheduled for the next day.

She returned in a chipper mood. The tooth was easily removed and she was relieved and grateful.

Two weeks later I read her obituary. The damn tooth would not wait.