My way is helping me cope, so don't rain on my parade.
So I am thinking that my heaven is kinda like the airport. We are all going up, but some might get to board before others, some might have to wait for a seat, some are riding first class with champagne and the soft blankets.
My current dental situation has elevated me to First Class and the heavenly equivalent of the Hertz Gold Club. All of life's experiences have added up to give me superior status and some extra heavenly goodies. I don't have to run through the concourse, I don't have to wait in any lines, I don't even have to check in at the counter - I can walk right on through to my destination.
Up until now I wasn't acutely aware of what a dry socket entailed. Sure, I had been warned after my wisdom teeth came out. Sure, in conversation people have shuddered at the mere mention of the phrase. OMFG, no one ever said that there would be times that I would gladly trade a child for some pain relief (and I really love my kids). The doctor never mentioned that the four different numbing medicines he used are also vasoconstrictors and that a blood clot might not even form. No one ever explained, that in the absence of a blood clot in the space formerly occupied by a tooth, that what remains is exposed nerve endings and bone.
The treatment is moderately effective, but highly unpleasant. Old fashioned oil of clove is the predominant ingredient. This is the Lord exacting revenge on behalf of my mother for that Dead Kennedys clove smoking phase I went through as a teenager. She couldn't stand the smell, now I have to taste it every minute of everyday for two weeks or more.
This too shall pass. God doesn't give us more than we can handle.
That which does not kill us makes us