Pivní Filosof - Beer Philosopher

A tooth, one motherfucking tooth. Health, fortunately, had never been something I’d ever had to worry. The only serious disease I’d suffered was pneumonia, when I was 10 (how I got it is itself a funny story). Since then, other than the very occasional flu and those “feeling a bit under the weather” things, I’d always been healthy. At 47 now, I was fit, active, I’d never been a smoker, I ate well, I didn’t have weight issues, and I had even cut down a little on the boozing because, well, I’m not getting any younger and I decided that if I wanted to keep on enjoying my beer in the years to come, I had better slow down a bit. And despite all that, that motherfucking tooth almost sends me to an early grave. It all started on Tuesday, September 18. I woke up feeling a bit dodgy; nothing that I couldn’t get rid of taking the day off and resting, I thought. There was a mild pain around the earlobe , but I didn’t pay too much attention to it, I believed it was just another symptom of what...