Ever since I was small, I loved going to the dentist.
I have a rather small mouth and small teeth, but I always loved how the dentists commented that even though my mouth was small, I was one of the patients who could sit most still.
This always made me proud.
I think some of this came from the fact that my mom was in the dental field when I was little and I can remember her being proud of my clean check ups.
As I've grown up my mother stayed in various aspects of the dental industry and clean teeth and good hygiene have always been a priority to me. Even in my youth.
Keeping our teeth safe was always a big topic and issue as well.
"Don't use your teeth as tools". "Don't bite that". "Don't chew on that."
You get the drift.
Teeth are those things you've only got one of. Well, you really have 32. But one for each spot.
And baby teeth are simply God's way of preparing us to take care of the final things - that's what I say anyway. They don't really count because they're not around for that long.
I can remember falling and hitting my teeth on the bathtub when I was smaller.
I can remember my brother falling down and hitting his front teeth on a grocery store cart.
I can remember being at Bryan's fraternity mountain weekend, running to jump on the back of a friend/fraternity brother and having the beer bottle in my hand bang my front teeth and chip one.
Not long after Julia was born I had cracked a tooth that needed to be tended to.
I always hated when the dentist or orthodontist would just start filing on my teeth without my permission. "What in the heck are you doing and why? Don't be filing my teeth!"
All of these events I definitely remember.
Vividly.
I remember thinking each time - "Oh, there go the teeth.".
When I was younger I was always worried that I would let Mom down because I had done something to my teeth. Then as I got older I realized that I really liked my teeth and I was lucky to have pretty good ones. And I didn't like for anything bad to happen to them. Kind of like looking out for your old pals.
My teeth aren't the big, pretty teeth of movie stars.
But they are good strong teeth none the less.
And I like them.
I have had braces (twice) to ensure that they line up correctly.
I had a "pregnancy tumor" when I was pregnant with Julia. It grew on the gum at the back of my mouth and ended up growing between my two back molars. This caused the second go-'round with braces.
These tumors happened in less than one percent of pregnancies and were actually referenced in the book about what you should expect when you were expecting. Just a non cancerous, one centimeter cubed growth. Crazy, huh?
And to top it off, both of my children have had occasions to chip their front teeth. This bothered me so!! It bothers most moms, but given my history with teeth and the love of them, it always hurt my heart. Again, God let us have baby teeth to practice for the real ones. Julia knocked her front ones so hard and bad that the dentists chose to bond and built up her front baby teeth. They just couldn't stay the way they were.
Imagine my trauma on that day with Julia. Not only was my child in pain. But it was the teeth!
As I'm older, I still love going to the dentist.
If I could afford it, I would go more than every 6 months to get them cleaned. There's nothing better than the slick feeling of freshly cleaned and polished teeth I say!
All this rambling is going somewhere I promise.
I went to the dentist earlier this week for my normal 6 month visit. At this check up, my dentist noticed something funny with the root in the tooth that was previously cracked and repaired after Julia was born.
She said it looked like the root had decided to reabsorb. Something that happens after trauma to teeth. She sent my x-ray to an Endodontist and I was on my way this morning for him to take a look and perform a root canal.
Imagine my surprise when I arrive and the Endodontist is a cutie.
Imagine my surprise when cutie tells me that there will be no root canal today, because I am going to loose the tooth!
What?!?
Did he just say "Loose the tooth?".
That is what my children are doing right now - loosing teeth.
Not me. I'm in the business of keeping mine clean.
I'm thinking...what do you mean, loose the tooth?
Turns out that the resorbing root is happening at the part of the tooth where the tooth meets the bone in which it sits. Not in the long part of the root.
And the resorption is also happening really close to the front wall of the tooth, rendering nothing really to leave behind to hold the stuff that fills in the canal once the root is gone. He is afraid that the tooth may even break off when being extracted.
Being extracted so that I can then have an implant.
The implant is favored over a bridge because of where it is in my smile (right behind the canine) and that it will only involve 1 tooth (the extracted one).
Where a bridge would involve cutting down two more teeth to fit the bridge onto.
Well, being that we all know how I feel about teeth being filed, there will be no bridge.
Implants are preferred in single teeth extractions these days.
So...next Thursday I will go to the oral surgeon to see how we want to get this implant ball rolling.
Funny how this little bit of dental stuff has me on the verge (and over the verge on occasion) of tears. I know - I'm a good crier. But this is one of those times where I'm trying to keep it in.
I know I'll feel better if I just let it out. But I feel silly for letting the loss of my tooth get to me so.
There are other awful things happening to friends and around the world.
I feel guilty for being so blue.
Oh well. Such is life. And criers like me are what help the world go round!
Mr. W says that if you need a professional mourner for an occasion, give me a call.
I will be sure to perform!
