Over the past few years, I've had six molars shatter.
That didn't properly express the pain and angst I experienced over this fact, so let me try again.
Okay. Yeah. That's better.
The sixth one was the final straw...
(Yes, I know I'm mixing metaphors or something but we're talking about... shudder, shudder... getting teeth pulled so give me a break, please.)
The last one rendered me molar-less top and bottom on both sides. So much for chewing carrots on the 'good side' of my mouth.
With no remaining 'good sides' to chew on, I scheduled a 'consultation' with a dental reconstruction specialist. Ummm...Yeah. It should have been called a 'consultation' with a pillager/raper.
Gosh. That sounded harsh.
But 24K for some implants, sinus surgery, moving some nerves around and new teeth is a wee bit steep for our budget.
I've tried to make light of it, but Mr. Jenny is not amused when I tuck my lower lip into the holes where some of my top molars have been. I call it my 'Easter Bunny' impression. He calls it 'looking like a moron', although he doesn't, technically,say that out loud.
On top of being unappreciated when I impersonate the Easter Bunny...
I've been using no molars as an excuse to eat white stuff.
No raw veggies for me, it's too painful...give me pudding or mashed potatoes or wonder white bread.
After a few months of this soft, yet decidedly unhealthy diet, I realized that a) I was gaining weight like a sumo wrestler and b) I could not exist forever without something crunchy in my diet.
So, I sucked it up, asked my Mom where she gets her partials made (aren't those just for old people? Seriously?) and made an appointment.
I went to the dentist with much trepidation.
Okay, I was shaking like a leaf.
When asked on the new patient information sheet about the reason for my visit today, I simply wrote 'new teeth' as an explanation.
The dental cleaner lady person thought I was funny.
After a moment of laughing at my humor, I opened my mouth and she realized I wasn't joking.
And I wasn't feeling particularly humorous when she began cleaning my teeth.
"Gosh! Relax," she said with her super white teeth gleaming in the glare of the overhead lights. "You are so tense!"
"I'm fine," I replied in a shaky voice, "I've just had a few bad experiences with tooth extractions!"
"Gosh! Your eyes are so big! You look terrified!" she said.
I closed my eyes.
And tried not to dig my fingers clear through the cushioned arm rests.
When she was finally done, the dentist came in.
"Hmmm..." he said as he looked at my x-rays.
"Hmmm...well, it looks like you're here to talk about dental reconstruction."
I couldn't help myself. I did my 'Easter Bunny' impression.
I want to interject here that I asked Mr. Jenny to take my picture to share with you, but he refused. Apparently he thinks that some people might actually look like the Easter Bunny and be offended. And it is impossible to take a picture in the mirror while focusing the camera and tucking your lower lip into the hole from the removal of your top molars. I tried. For you. I really, really tried.
The dentist laughed. "Well," he said, "I've never worked on the Easter Bunnies teeth before, but I think I can help you. Are you rich?"
"Ummm...no...why do you ask?"
"You have two options for dental reconstruction...you can spend between 20 and 25 THOUSAND dollars and get bone grafts, implants, sinus lifts and eventually get some new teeth OR you can spend between 8 and 9 HUNDRED for partials."
I multiplied in my head. Gosh. 4 times 8 or 9 HUNDRED was still out of reach for the moment.
He clarified, "We would do one partial for both sides of the top and one partial for both sides of the bottom BUT I recommend we just start with the top, wait a few months and then do the bottom!"
Yeehaw! Hippity Hoppity Easter's on it's way!
That I can afford!
Who cares if he's not the Easter Bunnies dentist!
He's the guy that's gonna give me some teeth back!
Then I won't have any excuse not to eat my veggies.
It will be goodbye forever to mashed potatoes from KFC!