Teeth Keep Falling From My Head

Sung to the tune of “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head”

I can’t get that tune out of my head now. Warning – this post is a RANT. You can decide to read or not, but there will be ranting going on today with or without you.  I hope it is with you because it is WAY more satisfying to RANT to someone or two.  It’s that “Misery Loves Company” deal.

If you have been coming to my Place for any length of time, you know about my defective teeth, so I apologize for another tale of woe. I only have like 5 natural teeth left in my head. The rest are crowns, implants and some are just plain gone.

Last week I had a consult with the doc who does implants. At the beginning of this year I had the last molar on my upper right jaw break – sheared off at the gumline to be exact. There was not enough to save, so I had pre-implant surgery to remove the tooth and get a bone graft done so I could get an implant there. Here we go again…

Well, after a full 3D image of my head, doc’s suspicions were correct. There is not enough bone to support an implant there. And I really needed a molar there to keep my chewing and teeth in alignment.

Now I need two surgeries – one to lift the sinus membrane out-of-the-way, and do a second bone graft. Then, 4 months after that heals, another surgery to implant the hardware for the replacement molar.

NOT happy news. This made me grumpy. I was sad about needing one surgery, now double the painful process as well as the cost. I was being betrayed by my own jaw.

Then today’s event happened. The event my nightmares are made of. My teeth break, need root-canals, crowns pop off  – this is normal life for me, so I deal.  Get grumpy, feel sorry for myself. Pout.

Today, however, I realized that my rotten teeth being replaced with implants and the crowns that pop off, are molars. No one notices a missing tooth back there, so even though you are miserable with pain and rapidly going broke, I at least had my dignity.

Not anymore. During lunch I suddenly felt a rolling tooth in my mouth, not a strange occurrence for me – indicating a popped off crown. Sure enough, the same one that popped off last week and got re-cemented back in.  I must talk with my dentist about the quality of glue he’s using…

Except this time, the crown kept the tooth inside of it. Another break off at the gumline – but NOT a molar. Oh no!, I screamed. It took me seven minutes before I had the guts enough to look in the mirror. I did not smile. I opened my mouth slightly.

It was not as bad as I feared.  It was worse.  A large hole, large gaping hole, where my left incisor used to be surrounded by swollen gums that were receding away from bone.  I closed my mouth and just stared at my face. Bad idea. That is when I discovered that the left side of my upper lip looked bruised and sucked in. Like a person without upper teeth. You know, hillbillies, hockey players, and seven-year olds.

Seven-year olds really don’t count – they look cute with missing front teeth.

Thank You for listening…





Meet Herbie, My Green Monster

Note: I did not title this post: My Little Green Monster.
My Green Monster has not, nor will ever be, little. If it’s true that jealousy feeds on itself, growing bigger, then Herbie (my green monster) must weigh 300 pounds by now.

I am always in the company of Herbie. I named him because my brain grew tired of thinking “my green monster”. I have a pretty tired brain. Herbie (and I) envy everyone and everything.  I manage to hide it pretty well (or so I think). I would hate for people to know just how shallow I really am. I certainly would not want this getting out on the internet. Ha.

It’s like this – I compare myself to everyone I meet, and I find myself lacking. Not only does this torture my self-esteem, but it’s exhausting. I have lived with the belief that if only I were pretty, everything would be OK. I would have self-esteem, confidence and more compassion. And yes, I’ll admit it, I’d get more positive attention.

In our defense, we don’t become insanely jealous. That is strange in itself, considering. I don’t shoot daggers out of my eyes at people, and we haven’t broken the law trying to steal stuff we want. Herbie is more of a pacifist. He likes to admire in people the things that I want, but cannot have. Things like a flawless complexion. Full lips. Large breasts I would flaunt at hubby – to see if I could lure him out of his shop, or just to be a brat.

Stuff like that.

We do not limit our envy to physical beauty – oh no! Herbie and I admire character, principles, bravery, honesty. We get misty eyed when we read something humorous, deeply moving, or impacting – wishing that I could write something that good.

We are suckers for romantic gestures and puppies. We are jealous of those who get to have one, and envious of those who have both. The typical “have and have not” scenario Herbie and I live with every day, in spite of all the therapy.

We hate that real-life isn’t life in the movies. Romantic comedy’s, that is. Not those vampire or zombie movies, which would, literally, suck.

photo credit: Daniel Ferenčak via photopin cc

Vanity vs Cheap

Why? What are they going to do?

I have a decision to make.

Our local grocery store considers you a Senior Citizen when you are 55-years old and over. Isn’t that a bit young? It used to be that grandparents got senior discounts at restaurants when they were over 65.  I mean I only turned 55-years old today. (Hard to believe, I know.)

I’m not ready to be a “Senior Citizen”. My grandparents were in their 70’s when they became senior citizens. Seniors are wise and dignified. You never see a senior shoving 3 pieces of gum in their mouth and be smacking it loudly, maybe even blowing bubbles. Or driving down the neighborhood with their car windows down and the stereo up high.

I have been known to still do those things. And although smart, I am not wise. I am so not a senior citizen.

Did I mention that seniors get a discount when they shop Tuesdays and Wednesdays, at our local grocery store?

It all boils down to one thing. How vain am I? Do I keep trying to look young, stay in denial about my age, -OR- do I accept the fact I’m old, and save a few bucks on the grocery bill?


photo credit: Ethan Prater via photopin cc