Toothless

 

Oh, holy heck, this is practically gonna be me by this afternoon. I'm having oral surgery this morning, which will involve several tooth extractions. I think my blood pressure is rising just at the thought. 

I'm scared -- it's really going to be a painful weekend. I'm embarrassed (so of course, my first thought is to put it out there for everyone to know). And I'm sad thinking about everything I'm not going to be able to eat for a long time. Mostly, I'm sure going to miss crunching on ice.

Of course, crunching on ice is part of the problem. How my teeth fell into such a sad state is an "if you give a mouse a cookie" kind of scenario.

It's starts with bad genes (love you Mom & Dad!). Bad dental genes from my dad. Bad esophageal genes from my mom. Years of reflux, which resulted in the upflow of acid. Nexium to control the reflux, but resulted in low iron. My beloved ice chewing habit as a result of the low iron. Lots of Diet Coke to give me energy that the low iron zapped. Enamel erosion from the Diet Coke and 'round and 'round it goes. 

Sure, now I can look back and see all of the things I could have done to interrupt the cycle. But I wasn't looking at the big picture. Excuses, excuses, I know. It's all on me and my rotten teeth.

Could I have done something in the meantime to fix them? Yep. But have I mentioned I hate the dentist? Not the dentist the person. I really like her and her staff. But the whole idea of dentistry -- sharp poky things jabbing my gums, someone with their face close enough to see boogers, high-pitched squeals and scritch-scratchiness, all that saliva. It's really an assault to the senses. 

Every time I go for a cleaning, I sit in the chair and my whole body tenses up, starting with my toes. Not to mention that its the start of a 5-month relationship to fix this or that and then some. By the time things got fixed, it would be time for another cleaning. Plus, the x-rays? I throw up…every darn time. The last time I was there for x-rays, they tried to halt the gag reflex by covering my tongue in salt. It was insult to injury. Over the years, I developed a very protective habit of canceling dental appointments. 

So, here I am, two hours away from beginning my long-term diet of soft foods. Oh, ice I'm so going to miss you. Looking on the bright side, maybe I'll lose some weight. Looking on the realistic side, I'm dreaming of ice cream and pudding and peanut butter. If there's someone who can get fat(ter) by not eating, it will be me.

I have to say that I am looking forward to a mouth that doesn't continually ache from one sensitive tooth or root canal waiting to happen. I've got one tooth that I've been babying with round the clock ibuprofen since Christmas. And the anesthesia? Yep, kind of excited about that, too. Plus, maybe my cheeks will sink in a bit, giving my face an illusion of model-thin?

I suppose this was all meant to be. Really, if you think about it, frogs don't have teeth, right? I'm just playing the part. Catch you all on the gummy side.