Adventures in Dentures, episode 4,206 In Which We Discuss The Slow Attrition of My Teeth

Kinda like...

 

This morning I’m off to the dentist. I’m cautiously optimistic. A couple of years ago, after a lifetime of struggle and probably a billion dollars in dental work, I opted to rip out the whole bottom rack and have them replaced. I got one of those 4-point total implant things. 

Everything has gone well with it, zero pain, looks great. I can eat normally again. HOWEVER, for whatever reason, the last post wouldn't graft to the bone like it's supposed to. It took them three tries, but the last post has finally set and that I’m being fitted for my permanent bottom teeth. It’s only been two years since this journey started, and now I can look forward to doing the top rack later this year. YAY. 

It isn't a simple procedure, and it isn't cheap. But that said, I would recommend total replacement for anyone with chronic, acute dental problems.

Fun Fact: They stop hurting when
you pull them.

My teeth have always been a source of shame for me, going back to when I was a little kid. I don’t remember anyone putting a toothbrush into my hand until we had “Healthy Teeth Week” when I was in the third grade. The teacher gave us all toothbrushes and made us brush after lunch. There were these little red candy-like chewables she made us eat that turned all the places we’d missed while brushing turn bright red, like blood. It made me gag.

I go into more detail about this in the book I'm writing, not just the ongoing issues with my teeth, but the general atmosphere of benign neglect that a permeated my childhood. No one told me to brush my teeth. No one told me I needed to wash my hair once in awhile. I never did homework. Like, ever.

Looking back it sometimes seems I was raised less as a child, than one of the stray cats that always eventually found their way to our porch. 

You only need to floss the ones
you want to keep. 

It's sad, now, to know this. I don't dwell on these things much, outside of therapy. Bygones, etcetera. Water under the bridge. But when people ask me if it was worth the time, effort, blood and money to rip my teeth out and have new ones installed? 

You bet it's worth it. Every bit of it.