At the end of the year, I had two of my back teeth extracted.

It seems that the root of my tooth is infected and has been hurting me regularly for a very long time.

One of the reasons why I was told so lightly, "Do you want to take out two of them?

The main reason was that I was horrified at the thought of having to spend the New Year's holidays with pain that no painkillers would help.

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My basic policy in life is one of "pain avoidance".

I don't need "pleasure". I accept hardship if it is my choice.

Rather, I am the one who picks up "hardships" on my own, without even realizing it.

I don't like "injustice" or "unpleasantness," but I will deal with this by means of "retaliation," "counterattack," and "annihilation.

However, pain is the only thing that cannot be fought. This is always a "lose" choice.

Whether it's dental, medical, surgical, or psychiatric, I go to the hospital or clinic, get a prescription, and run to the pharmacy (I don't rely on over-the-counter drugs).

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Apparently, my life has entered the "start losing teeth" phase.

To begin with, my age has already surpassed the average age at the time of the Pacific War (75 years ago).

Humans don't evolve in about 100 years (it takes about 100,000 years), so I am alive today because of medicine, drugs, and hygiene education.

Then...,

"What's a tooth or two matter?"

Five minutes later, I was looking at the two teeth that had been pulled out with my own eyes.

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After my father's dentures were damaged, he lost his appetite, his strength, and his death due to incompatibility with his new dentures.

In my case, too, I'm gutted that it will probably be "teeth" that will come to kill me.