Teenage Mutant Ninja Teeth

Ok, I PROMISE this one's gonna be short. My back aches and I don't know how long my computer will last. So let's get right to it.

Even with having a shortened day, it still seemed to take forever. Why is that? Why does it so often feel like the half days are twice as long. Oh well, eventually 2:30 rolled around so I gathered my stuff and headed out. I was going to try and stay longer but I wisely chose to err on the side of caution (and logic) in case I got lost on my way and left a little earlier.

In case anyone forgot, a few weeks ago I met with a dentist who advised I consult an oral surgeon as to whether or not my wisdom teeth would need to come out. I had immediately brightened at the prospect of not having to go through that oral torture, thinking no one ever got a reprieve from that. She handed me the X-rays to show the doctor and then I'd come back the following week to fill a cavity and I'd let her know what they said. I called and made the appointment, and prayed the doctor would tell me what I wanted to hear.

When I came into the office the woman behind the desk handed me paperwork to fill out and when I had finished I handed it back to her. I didn't feel like flipping through a magazine, so instead I took in the sights of the office. It differed quite drastically from the homey feel I got from the dentist's office, with their plush chairs and warm light. Instead, this place reminded me of a hotel lobby. Elegant but cold and impersonal. I shifted slightly in my chair, trying to readjust my ancient pink shirt with the hole at the bottom and peasant-like slipper shoes, just to fit in more. Even as I walked back and forth to the front desk I felt bad as my too-long jeans scraped the bottom of the floor with every step.

Again, I was the only person waiting so it didn't take long before my name was called. I followed a scrub-clad girl to a small office where she took my blood pressure and then the X-rays I had brought with me. As she stuck them into the square of light to get a better look, she let out a semi-startled exclamation.

"Oh!", she said. I knew what she was surprised by, but I still waited a second.

"You're noticing my extra wisdom tooth?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah, you do have one...huh", she said.

"Yeah, and the kicker is that my sister is missing one," I said. She turned around to face me, and asked if we were twins.

"No," I said, "but close. 13 months apart." She remarked again at the oddness of that, and then went to find the doctor. Soon he came in and confidently stuck his hand out to shake mine. The warmth of his palm had barely left mine before he quickly replied, "Yup, you need them all out."

Crestfallen, I tried to point out what Dr. Baig, my dentist, had which was how close my wisdom teeth were to the nerves in my mouth.

"Oh, they're always like that. That's not a problem." He then began explaining to me what to expect from the procedure and healing time. I tried to listen intently though I was still coming off the shock at how quickly hope had been ripped out of my hands. When I had asked my questions I went back out to the front office to pay for my visit. A visit that literally lasted less than 20 mins.

"$55, please," the woman said. She then did some calculations and showed me what to expect, financially. I got another whole dose of shock and apprehension. Not only would I have to get all 5 (5?! I'm a freak) taken out, but I'd have to shell out over $1,000 to do it!

It doesn't seem right; I'm basically paying someone a grand to fix something that isn't even bothering me. Oh well, I guess it's preventative. I just hope the pain would be worth this prevention.

Anyway, my insurance for surgeries doesn't kick in till November anyway, so I have some time to figure it all out. Ok, chickees that's it for me. See you back here 2morrow.

Sensi-die

Isn't it interesting how when you are a kid you loathe the idea of having to go to the doctor or dentist? You'd bitch and whine to your parents about how you can't, trying desperately to find some kind of excuse to not to have to go. The only good time to see a doctor is when you are already sick, cuz then you might squeeze a sick day out of them. But then dentist has always been a source of unbelievable fear and anxiety, for me anyway. At least, until now.

Now, I freaking can't wait to go to the dentist, and after almost a whole year of working through this temp agency, I'll finally be able to enroll in the health benefits they provide. I remember so clearly sitting in the office, filling out the paperwork, and taking some b.s. typing test (which I'm pretty sure I failed. How the hell does a former English major fail at using Microsoft Word? Well, I can tell you, I probably wasn't the best English major). Then the girl who was assisting me came in with some paperwork concerning the health plans they offer.

"Oh really?" I had asked, excitedly. "What do I have to do to enroll??"

"Weeeell," she said, slowly handing me the folder. "Unfortunately, we only have open enrollment every August." And since it was already October, I realized I would have to suck it up...through majorly sensitive teeth...for almost an entire year.

Of all the annoying little attributes I seemed to have inherited (which my damn siblings seemed to have escaped), the bad teeth is probably the most painful. Not the bad eyes, oily hair, or crappy skin...I suffered, like many, through the rite of passage known as braces. And that was fine. I dealt with looking freakish for years and came out of it with better teeth for sure. But certainly not the best.

For one, I became lazy with my retainer, deciding I'd deal with a little tooth-shifting in exchange for a night's sleep that didn't involve torturous pressure in my mouth like in a god damn Saw movie. Since then one tooth has decided it prefers laying on it's side, but that's probably the least important reason I'd like to see a dentist. The runner-up being the fact that I STILL have a fossilized metal bracket backing my bottom front teeth that I should've gotten removed years ago but for one reason or other never had the time.

The main reason I need to see a dentist is for my son of a bitching sensitive teeth. This is has been something that has gone from being a minor annoyance to a full on change in my eating patterns. Now, it's not enough to avoid cold foods of ANY kind in varying degrees, but now I get surges of pain if I bite down on anything remotely too hot! I find myself waiting for a slice of pizza to cool to room temperature off or using a knife to slice into a peach to make smaller bites so I my teeth don't have to make direct contact.

I know, everyone keeps telling me to just keep using Sensodyne, which I have been using (or at least some form of) for months upon months now. You know what that crap helps me with? Taking away the pain of BRUSHING my teeth, and that's about it. I'm fairly sure I'm past the point of toothpaste.

At long last, August is nearly upon me and I can not WAIT to pick a freakin plan and make an appointment for a dentist. So buckle down my wrists, get the giant wads of cotton, and burn my eyes out with that giant alien-ship ceiling light- whatever needs to be done so that I no longer have to use a straw for oatmeal or chop fruit into swallowable pill forms.