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Just so you aren't kept on the edge of your seat waiting for the other shoe to drop (boy, can I ever mix metaphors or what?) I wanted to update you on the latest news about my MRI last week.

I finally tracked down someone who could tell me what they found and guess what?!? They told me exactly what I thought was the problem – an anterior translation of the condylar head of my right mandible. Woo-hoooooo!!!! Waydago, docs! Tell me what I ALREADY KNOW!

[sigh] Okay. . . I'm alright, now. Getting better. Getting better.

If you detect a note of sarcasm, believe me, it's deserved. I've spent the past 6 months (next week) in pain, not from the cancer. . . oh, no, that's gone, taken care of (and. . . thank God). No the pain I've been in has been from the surgery to remove the cancer.

Granted, it's a helluva tradeoff: no more cancer and a probable nasty death from tumors in my throat, neck, and wherever else the cancer decided to metastasize to on the one hand, for excruciating pain in my jaw every time I eat or drink — or sometimes for no reason at all — on the other.

Trouble is, the pain is driving me a bit crazy. It demands my attention and bullies its way into my daily thoughts, shoving aside thoughts of being surrounded by beautiful, white, healing light like a gate crasher at wedding party.

That wouldn't pose much of a problem if it weren't for one little niggling fact: I like to eat. Daily. Sometimes several times a day. And not just soft foods like pudding and oatmeal. Oh, no, my friend. I like big, thick steaks, crunchy, fresh vegetables, crisp, tart Granny Smith apples, and both hard and chewy candies.

So, what do I get in return for lying quietly, not twitching an itch for three hours while my jaw and shoulder were scanned within an inch of their useful lives? "Your jaw is out of place, Mr. Stevens."

My, what a surprise! I thought I'd stubbed my toe.

"No, sir. Your right jaw is out of place and has moved forward slightly from its normal position."

Okay. . . so how do we fix it?

"I don't know, Mr. Stevens. You'll have to see someone in Oral Surgery for that. We only deal with ears, noses, and throats."

No clue, huh?

"No, sir. That's someone else's job."

Can't even give me a general idea?

"On the advice of our attorneys, we're not allowed to step on any other specialty's toes. They could sue us."

Then, when can I see an Oral Surgeon?

"30 days or so."

Thirty days!?! Let's see if we can't do it a bit sooner. That's a lotta pain to go through. Especially since it's getting worse. I nearly went to my knees yesterday.

"Then, maybe we can send you over there when you come in for your next ENT appointment next Thursday."

That works. By the way, who are your attorneys?

"Stickum, Pokum, & Proddum, Attorneys at Law."

Humph. . . Shoulda seen that comin'.

More soon. . .