Things fall apart

Dentists, the great lexicographers

A few weeks ago, the searing pain that I had been diligently and pointedly ignoring in one of my back teeth finally got annoying enough that I called the dentist about it. Calling the dentist, while seemingly the responsible thing to do, was really my ruse for more procrastination—I figured there would be at least a two-week wait until they could fit me in, during which time I could redouble my avoidance efforts and hopefully will my tooth into submission, rendering any and all treatment unnecessary. This makes total sense if you think about it.

But no! My dentist was not busy at all! Sitting around twiddling his thumbs, actually! And it sounded like my problem was an urgent one that needed immediate care, so he scheduled me for an appointment three hours from the time I called, robbing me of all hopes of willing away a cavity with my mind. Lame.

After prodding and jaw-stretching and “Hmmm-ing,” over my gaping maw, the dentist did, in fact, confirm that my tooth was “cavitating” (a word I am now fascinated with, and that I try to slip into casual conversation as much as possible. For example: “I’m so hungry, my stomach is cavitating.” Or when I’m angry: “I will cavitate you.” I have … lots of friends.) and scheduled a follow-up appointment for the next day to fill it. I guess the moral of the story is: you cannot treat your oral health with your mind. Or maybe that dentists know cool words. I think probably the second one.

Saving face

Speaking of ways I have been negligent with my health, last week I made an appointment with the optometrist to see if my contacts prescription might need a little update. Once again, this was vanity thinly veiled as responsibility: What I really wanted were some cool new glasses. However, as the OD checked me out, he hmmed and huh’ed and finally declared that I was suffering from inflamed corneas and would need to stop all contacts usage for one whole month.What the hell, eyes?

So, cool new glasses were purchased. And while I am glad to have new fun frames to sport, I miss my face and also sunglasses, in that order. Also, I feel like some of the outfits I used to wear just don’t work as well with glasses, as ridiculous as that sounds. And also there’s the whole summer in the south part of it, which makes glasses slip down the bridge of my nose in a slick of sweat after I’ve been outside for more than 30 seconds. Buh. I’m over it. And I have two weeks left.

But more disconcerting than dealing with my glasses endurance threshold is just the fact that my corneas are inflamed in the first place. Right after I had to have a giant hole in my tooth filled. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, BODY. We’ve got shit to do, and I need to see and also to have teeth. Also, if you could maybe chill with the gray hairs a little, too, that would be swell.

Speaking of teeth

If you’re my friend on Facebook, you already saw it, but behold:

… it is finished. I always said I wouldn’t be one of those moms who kept my kids’ baby teeth because ew gross, but you show me the person who is able to just chuck that tiny enameled piece of her oldest child’s babyhood in the trash right after the triumphant moment it’s been plucked, and I will show you someone with a shriveled up raisin for a soul.

So I now have an old, pulled, hollowed out tiny tooth in my jewelry box. Which means that I am now well on my way to becoming a toothless, tooth-hoarding, blind old woman who sits around all day muttering I’ll cavitate you! over and over again to no one in particular. The future looks bleak, my friends.

1 comment

1 Stink { 06.23.11 at 2:49 pm }

I laughed out loud, again in my office, at the thought of your future…and of sitting on a porch with you, screaming “I’ll cavitate you!!” to all passersby under 60. I hope this dream comes true.

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