Molar, Dear Molar
What a strange day it’s been. This warm and sunny morning, I visited my favorite dentist/dental hygienist for a routine clean and polish.
By late afternoon, I was missing a molar. A molar that had given its all for me. Sacrificed its very life for me. A tooth that had crunched many and sundry victuals finally fractured and died in the course of a day, leaving me bloodied and bereft of tooth.
I’m getting old. I’ve long felt it in my bones, but the empirical evidence had always been a tad ambiguous (well...to a delusional fool like me).
Not today.
Today, I learned that my teeth are cracked or cracking. My left quadrant molar had given up the ghost several months ago, but I had persevered until I could endure no longer. Today was the day when pliers met enamel, force overcame resistance, and my mouth and tongue lost a stalwart friend.
Sigh.
I’m getting old. I am disintegrating. Calcium gave way to bad habits and age, and left me with a large gap to remind me that dust I was...and dust I shall become.
Thank goodness for Vicodin and cheap wine.
It renders the sorrow bearable.
* * *
Gratuitous non-sequitor: My hair is well past my shoulders. I'm kinda liking it when the warm winds caress me. Maybe it's the wine and Vicodin...maybe it's just...rebellion...or, perhaps, denial?
* * *
Gratuitous non-sequitor: My hair is well past my shoulders. I'm kinda liking it when the warm winds caress me. Maybe it's the wine and Vicodin...maybe it's just...rebellion...or, perhaps, denial?
* * *
posted by Jonas | 5/06/2008 12:51:00 AM
13 Comments:
Sorry to hear about your molar. How odd it must feel to have your tongue fall into that gap. I think I'll go have a glass of milk now.
Oh, I sympathize. I lost my two front teeth in an accident back in high school and I recently had the old ones replaced....to feel my lip concave in the gap made me feel oh so old and ugly that I felt like crying...But then the Magical Nitrous made me think of silly things and all was well (and loopy)
Feel better...and young at heart my friend.
Jon, that molar deserved better in its honor than cheap wine--break open a bottle of something good and toast the many years of service it gave you. Did you put it under your pillow?
Life is too short for cheap wine. If needed, I will send you some....fairwell molar...you knew it well.
Well, at least you still have your hair:)
Hey...I was talking to a guy one time who told me that the best blowjob he ever got was from a woman with no teeth...so...maybe it'll be an asset the more you lose????
(I'm not too sure why you bring out this morbid sense of humor in me, but you just do...lucky you with the new "me" who doesn't hold back any more. I guess you will simply have to deal, my friend)
Vicodin
*drools like Homer
meh...teeth schmeeth,
you can always switch to a liquid diet.
I feel the age creeping into my bones, especially when walking up stairs - the old knees just keep going crack crack, crack crack. Sorry about your molar. I'm sure one or two of mine are about to give out thanks to all that dental care I had in the 1970s from the sadistic British dentists who drill first and ask questions later. Be well.
Momma says "Getting old is easy. It's the tolerating it that's difficult..."
Yes, Anna, have that glass of milk! You're takin' care of three, dontcha know! (This is true: My parents were war refugees. They subsisted on rations. My mother was a tiny gal who lacked calcium in her diet. Even my baby teeth succombed to decay...)
Ooooooh...Somegirl...me likey nitrous!
No, Bernice, I drink cheap red wine when I'm gorging on pain-killers. Exquisite red wines are reserved solely for nights of romance and passion.
I would have placed the molar under my pillow, but it had already shattered. With inflation and all, I figured it'd be worth at least a sawbuck, but all I had were bloody bits. Not much of a market for those...
Brenda, my intrepid correspondent, bring me a glass of a fine Zinfandel and I will be forever in your thrall!
Yes, Deb, I still have my hair! It's graying and thinning rapidly but it's mine all mine and I'm glad for that!
Um...Gillette...I never aspired to be a toothless fellator. I doubt I ever shall be.
Yes, Donn, yer absolutely right. Cheap wine and pain-killers rool!
Ooooh, Selma...the stories I can tell about dentists' drills in the 1950's. Yep, I said I'm decrepit.
You are SO right, Scott. Aging is not for the squeamish!
Good, Lord, I need another bottle o' wine!
I dunno, I think you should have just sprinkled the fragments around, or mushed them into a tooth-like lump with a little bread dough or something. After all, you shouldn't pass up an opportunity to have a magical woman slipping her hand under your pillow!
Thank goodness for Vicodin and cheap wine.
LOL! Thanks for that laugh. I so needed it.
Buddy, buddy, buddy. If you can afford the insane cost of dentistry these days, you can afford to drink the good stuff any ole day. Wait, you cannot afford *not* to--what am I saying--onna counna who knows how much more time you have left? (lol)
With you on this: it is a muthuh to age.
Hey, nice hair. (smile)
Or, perhaps, dental denial? 50 is the new 30.. I will keep telling myself that till I get my walker!
2 words babe....
Gummer hummer......
:o)
Post a Comment
<< Home