The tooth and nothing but the tooth.
2004-10-20, 9:54 p.m.

So....I spent 2 hours today at the dentist. Just a little background - I have always had problems with my teeth. Well, cavity-wise. I never needed braces, so there's something. I get this particular malady from my mother. Thanks, Mom! You're calm, patient and aging nicely. Do I get any of that? No. I inherit your dental nightmare. Swell.

Oh, and just let me say that after I got the work done I get home, face throbbing, wanting nothing more than to take a handful of tylenol and hit the couch and guess what. I didn't have my house keys. I sat in my car in the cool, drizzly night and waited an hour for my husband to get home. Nice.

I've always had this stupid tooth problem. My sisters didn't. Every six months we'd go for our check-ups. They spent half the year chewing gum and skipping brushings. Did I? Heck no. Ever diligent, I'd brush at least twice a day, sometimes three and four times. I'd skip gum and taffy. Ok, maybe I'd have a couple pieces of taffy. And 4 out of 5 dentists DO recommend Trident, you know. So check-up time would roll around and I'd sit in anticipation, just knowing that this time, THIS TIME I'd done it for sure. Certainly there could be no unwanted holes burrowed into these teeth. Uh uh, no sirree. My diligence surely would pay off. So my little sister would come out, smiling her perfect, silver-free smile. With her little pigtails and her new toothbrush. She'd go stand in front of the giant moon mural and the hygenist would take out the Polaroid and snap her picture. They'd hang it up on the wall and my sister would pick out her ring or her sticker and go sit beside my mom. She'd announce (really unnecessarily so), "I didn't have ANY cavities." She'd smile and a little light would flash off her teeth. Ching!

Next! Well, I'd go into that room with only a modicum of doubt. Sure, my record wasn't that great, but I'd worked extra hard this time. I'd flossed like a champ. I'd put in some serious overtime on the brushing. That wall was screaming for my picture! Of course, I always came out of that room a broken child. Sometimes the verdict was just one cavity, but most likely there were 2 or 3. I'd get a new toothbrush and a sticker, maybe a little trial size toothpaste. But I'd yet to know the joy of standing in front of the moon mural.

Sigh. Nothing has changed. The only difference now is that the years of fillings, added to my rather annoying habit of grinding my teeth, have resulted in some major breakdown in my rear teeth. Well, all my teeth, really, but the back teeth are seeing the most damage. So, in August I began restoration. It's a major undertaking. My dentist will most likely be sporting a new Ferrari or yacht by the time he's done with me. But it needs to be done. He's putting crowns on the majority of my teeth. It's painful, both physically and financially. Luckily, my step-dad is having the bill sent to him. He said we'd work it out later. What a guy!

So, like I said, I spent 2 hours in the chair today. It felt like 5. You know, as if the pain isn't enough, I kept coming up with things to stress over. Here's a few things you can worry about while laid back in the dentist's chair:

1. Are there any stray bits of the Cheetos I had for lunch stuck in there anywhere?
2. If that drill slips, what exactly will it do to my gums/tongue/lips?
3. What do I do with my tongue? It's just kind of hanging out here.
4. What if it hurts and I bite down while his hand/the drill/the sucky-tube thing is in my mouth?
5. Can he see up my nose?
6. Is there anything up my nose to see?
7. Should I swallow?
8. Does my breath stink?
9. If a hunk of tooth accidently gets shot down my throat, can it do any actual damage?
10. Is that snot in the back of my throat? It feels like snot. Gross, could there really be snot in there?

Just a few things to think about next time you're in the chair.

Oh, in case you're wondering..... When I was 11 I got my one and only moon mural mugshot. :D

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