For the past few years, I have been aware that I have a dangerously deep hole in the gum beside one of my teeth on the upper right side, a hole in which bacteria constantly collects and germinates. Knowing that, and feeling constant, low level to mid-level pain, or at least “awareness” in that area of my mouth, I go great lengths with teeth cleanings, oil pulls with coconut oil, and shooting jets of water into the hole during daily showers. Plus, haven’t actually chewed on that side of my mouth for several years as well. (I look at my face in the mirror. Wonder: when will it begin to look lop-sided?) All the while, I’ve been knowing that, without continuous care, the constant low to mid-level infection there could shoot up into my brain or down into my heart.
Apparently, I’ve done a pretty good job, because the new dentist I saw today was amazed that the tooth is actually still there, and that the infection hasn’t blown up. She says what’s left of the root (which is exposed) is no longer rooted in bone, because bone has receded. Plus, teeth on both sides of that one also problematic. In fact, she emphasized, they all need to come out ASAP. This, after X-rays (which I only rarely consent to). Okay. They set me up with an extraction dentist. Tomorrow, 8:45 AM.
So I’m kind of in mourning for my lost teeth already. (And because of lost bone, can’t replace with implants.) Yep! Get used to the snaggle-tooth look, Ann!
My appointment today followed my weekly in-person visit with son Colin, still paralyzed from the waist down and with bad nerve pain in not only his thighs now, but his calves — which is a good thing, signals that the calves want to come back to life also.
So I was in a contemplative mood anyway, when I walked into the new dentist’s office.
Speaking of my teeth, I am undergoing a serious Saturn transit (Saturn rules teeth, bones, skin) — Saturn square Mars/Uranus — so am not surprised. Old father time (also Saturn) has caught up with me. My journey with my teeth began when I got braces as a ten year old, to correct for buck teeth (small mouth, large teeth). The orthodontist was in Boise, and we lived in Twin Falls, so after the first visit, at my request, my parents allowed me to ride the Greyhound bus alone two hours to Boise, go to the appointment, then walk around Boise and eat lunch in a restaurant, while waiting for the bus to return to Twin Falls. (Hard to believe I could do that then as a ten year old; can you imagine allowing a ten year old to do that today? He or she would likely be kidnapped, trafficked, etc. How times have changed!)
So, because of the original problem with my teeth, my love of travel, especially solo travel, was born. My dear teeth shifted me out of my usual fearful attitude into actual adventure! I thank my dear teeth for that, and am sorry to see three of them go, 70 years later.
These three:
