Friday, July 14, 2017

Fluoride, Take Me Away


Is this seat heated? Because I'm never leaving.

Morning Readers,

Motherhood does strange things to women.

And by "strange," I mean sick, sad, and often downright pathetic events that lead us to say things like, "How many cavities do I need to have filled? Seven? Can you make it eight?"

I had to put myself in check this year. After carefully tending to my family's well-being for months on end, somthing happened that made me realize I haven't been taking care of myself. It went something like this...

*Crack*
"A piece of my tooth just fell out."
"A PIECE OF MY TOOTH FELL OUT."
"Someone needs to fix this."
"My body is literally falling apart."
*Crawls in a hole and dies*

Tabulating on my un-manicured fingers, I quickly deduced that, while I'd made sure Husband the kids showed up for regular dentist appointments, it had been somewhere around the ballpark of  six years since I'd made time to have my teeth looked at by a professional. I called right away.

"My teeth are falling out. Help me."

The receptionist calmed me down. "Can you come in on Monday?"

"No."

"How about next Wednesday?"

"No."

"Friday?"

I leveled with her. "Listen, I have a billion children. The stars need to align to get me in there. Possibly may need to be a leap year. It's literally taken pieces of my body falling out to make this call. The best I can do is three months from now."

"How about July?"

"Done."

Putting off appoints is my stock and trade. Managing everyone else's business is my business, but when it comes to wandering off by myself during the day... well, my new dentist had seen my particular brand of sadness before.

"So you haven't seen anyone in a while, huh?"

I hung my head and stared at my tattered flip flops. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, I see this all the time. Moms get busy being moms, and, before they know it, twenty years go by, they lose all their teeth, and I'm fitting them with dentures."

"Really?"

He laughed. "Heavens no. But you do need a root scaling, three fillings, two crowns, and we don't have a payment plan."

Me: *throws confetti ironically*

It was a lot of work, but, somehow, I set up a babysitter, grabbed my Kindle, and headed out the door. Even though it would be a king's ransom, it dawned on me that this particular onslaught of dental work would take time. Lots of time. Child-free time. Armed with this demented brain jolt, I practically skipped through the glass door.

"Paige Kellerman. One-forty," I said.

"I apologize, Mrs. Kellerman. It'll be a few moments."

I padded excitedly over to a chair in the corner. "Take all the time you nee, my good woman."

By the time the actual procedure started, I was in heaven. The dental assistant wasn't so sure.

"Are you doing ok, Paige?"

"Uuuuhuuug."

"But you've had two shots of anesthetic, four numbing swabs, and I stuffed a lot of cotton in there."

I nodded and let out a relaxed sigh. Who needed a trip to the Bahamas? This would do.

Two hours later, my teeth had been scraped, drilled, and put back together like a jigsaw puzzle, the only drawback being the inability to move the left side of my face. The dentist did a once-over and asked some final questions.

"Are you in any pain?"

"Nobe."

"If you happen to experience pain, will you let us know?"

"I cab doob dat."

He smiled. "Because we can always have you back, right away, if there are any problems."

"Reabbby?"

He nodded.

Grabbing my purse, I gave him my best Sylvester Stalone smile and said. "Grabte. I call you toborrow."


Unfortunately, my dentist did a fabulous job, and I have absolutely no pain. I guess it's back to my regular mom duties. With better teeth.

But if I crack something again, it's good to know that my body falling apart comes with some perks.

Until Next Time, Readers!

And now that I've awkwardly made you my friend, come hang out with me on: