If you see me during the next few days, don’t be shocked. I look really good. That is I look really good if you don’t count the two big bruises on my chin which resemble a Fu Man Chu mustache. You see, I had some dental work done earlier, and the procedure required some “calf-roping” techniques which resulted in the bruises.
I’ve never had good teeth. Maybe it’s genetics or all those Sucrets that I sucked on to keep me from coughing so much when I was a kid and trying to sleep in the same room with my sister. I guess that was better than them holding a pillow over my head or throwing me out on the porch. Allergies were probably the big problem … and the water-cooled air condition and open windows at night didn’t help. Anyway, I went to sleep many a night with a cough drop tucked into my jaw. By the time I got to high school the molars were going quickly.
At twenty-three I had a partial plate with mostly back teeth. At fifty, I had most of my bottom teeth crowned, a few more pulled, and a bridge put in somewhere. I would say that my dental expenses probably put one dentist kid through law school, another was set up in an art gallery. Who knows what the current young dentist will do with the “lottery” from my mouth?
So last Monday I had seven teeth pulled, some plastic surgery, a nose job, and my portfolio adjusted. No, just the teeth pulled and a brand-new lower set of “store-bought” teeth that George Washington would be jealous of.
Of course, I went home with a bottom lip that rivaled Steve Harvey’s and the afore mentioned bruises, but when the swelling goes down, and I manage to chew again, I’m going to be neigh-on to perfect.
I did learn a few tricks. Those of you who are planning dental surgery should take note. First, I learned that one should not dwell too much on the process the day of the procedure. Rest up. Eat a hardy “last meal,” don’t drive on a busy road on the way. You see, the closer I got to the dental clinic, the more I thought about accidentally having car trouble … a flat, a problem with navigation, or a wreck. For a time, I thought about volunteering at the Covid testing sight, but decided ten days in ICU were worse than dental surgery … so I drove on to the clinic.
Secondly, I must tell you that listening to a book on tape is a great way to drown out the noise. At first, I had it so that everyone could hear the reading, but the dental assistant is a really good Christian woman and I didn’t want her fainting during some of the romantic descriptions. So, I drug out the ear buds and plugged them in. As the scraping, cracking, and banging got louder, so did my story.
Thirdly, I realized I should not be watching. Blinders would have been nice, but we made do with some dark glasses. There’s a blessing in that, too. I guess they didn’t want someone walking by that room and finding out who was in there. You see … some people keep their dental work a secret. But I am so thrilled to have straight teeth that are all the same color and no wire hooks which held that partial in … I’ll probably wear a sign around my neck.
Maybe the dentist will give me a discount for advertising for him. I accuse him of chiseling in his office number on my jaw bone for a while, but he said he was just putting his initials.
Therefore, when you see me, don’t point and stare. Don’t ask to see my new fancy implants. And don’t make me take off my Covid mask … I’m still drooling a little.
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