I always dread February. That shortest month, usually dark and dank and freezing cold, and you're short three days to pay the bills.

This February started out pretty good. Terry and I returned to our favorite getaway, the little Dutch Caribbean island of Bonaire. We had a string of 21 annual visits that was sadly broken last year. It was great to be back. We had a fantastic week, airline connections were perfect, we enjoyed the warmth of the sun; there were some short but intense squalls, but we weathered them well, and I rejoiced in my return to diving. We spent time with many old friends, and I returned to work refreshed and with a painting of the seascape of downtown Bonaire to hang on the wall next to my statue of St. Apollonia, the patron saint of dentists. They made a comforting pair to look at if and when I was stressed in my operatory.

Then the excrement hit the air circulator. Deby, my full-time hygienist, periodontics scholar, and Brainerd High School ski coach, broke her ankle while retrieving the slalom gates at a Giant's Ridge ski meet. Plucky lady that she is, she hobbled down the hill and a quarter mile to the chalet. The local wizards concurred that her ankle couldn't be fractured because she had been able to walk so far on it. A pin and a plate later, we are rescheduling our hygiene patients for the foreseeable future. Diane, our excellent part-time hygienist, was willing to go to two days a week to help cover Deby's patients, but alas, she and her husband had scheduled a well-deserved vacation to Mexico. However, she would be happy to work the Friday before they had to leave. Friday her son came down with a bout of the croup, so that day was a wash. Of course, that day's troop of emergencies included several periodontal abscesses that obliged me to pick up the ultrasonic scalar for debridement, a task I usually reserve only for my trips to Haiti. Honestly, I have people who do this and do it much better than I do!

Then Wanda, our faithful head of infection control and fixer of all things fixable, fell through a floor vent in her son's house and is severely bruised with an impressive hematoma — but she hangs in there. Julie, my beloved chairside assistant, has been blessed with her first grandchild, so I gladly granted her request for time to savor this joyful event with her son and his bride. Twice blest is Julie that her eldest daughter will be married this spring, so it was off to the Mall of America for a dress-shopping spree.

That leaves Judy, my dear friend, confidante, and office manager. Then Judy is called to jury duty! How long she will remain only Perry Mason would know.

Praise the Lord I can go to the bullpen and bring in my long-term reliever, Terry. Tough as it is to tear her away from her quilting artistry, she never complains and is a brilliant dental assistant. I actually wish she could have gone on to dental school; she would make a wonderful partner. What did I say?! She is a wonderful partner!

Well, it's down to Wanda and Terry and me. We'll survive. It's kind of nice to be able to spend time with our patients, not having to be interrupted for hygiene checks. But that would take its toll after awhile. I realize again how much I miss my entire dental family.

But heck, if I worry about how to pay the bills, I just look at the oceanfront painting of Bonaire and the beatific smile of St. Apollonia as she clutches her forceps and extracted tooth, the tools of her martyrdom. Things could be better- but then again, things could be worse.