And The Tooth Fairy Can Kiss My Ass, Too.

Well...

I've had it up to HERE with dentists.

They suck.

I used to like dentists.

I turned 40 and I didn't like dentists anymore.

Actually, I think I was still only 39 when going to the dentist became a bad thing.

Which is too bad.

For my entire life, my teeth have been as close to perfect as damn is to swearing. 

Actually, damn isn't really swearing even though that's how the saying goes so it kinda doesn’t really describe the near-perfect state of my teeth. I should probably say that my teeth have been as close to perfect as fuck is to swearing.

Ok...that's a more apt simile.

I’ve got one teeny tiny cavity. 

That’s it.

With the exception of that one measley spot, I was your typical Crest Kid.

I had the same awesome dentist for most of my life. He was great. Super funny and really laid back. Awesome guy.

The last thing I remember before the anaesthetic kicked in for my wisdom teeth extraction was him and his assistants comparing March Break tans . My 17 year old Self, thought that was hysterically cool and it has stuck with me ever since.

I loved him.

Even when I moved out West for a couple of post-university/pre-getting-married-having-a-couple-o-babies years, I scheduled my dentist appointments for when I was home for visits so I didn't have to go to anyone else. Only once did I go to an Out West dentist and that was right after we bought a place in Squamish and figured we were there for the long haul(wrong!), and so, we set down some roots...like finding a dentist... and I felt totally guilty for the entire appointment, like I was cheating on “Sully”- my most excellent dentist.

Then, weeks later, we moved home and all became right again in my dental world.

I even started flossing.

Also...as luck would have it, my Erstwhile In-Laws are good friends with “Sully” and his awesome wife so I got to hang out with him more than once every 6-9 months. We even sat together at a Great Big Sea concert. Awesome. 

And, this past winter, Mrs. Sully came to my rescue in the grocery store when I didn't know how much stewing beef to buy in order to make my first stew. Awesome.

FYI- this post has gone waaaaaaayyyyy off-course...even by my standards.

Anyhow, about 5(6??...7??...8??) years ago, my beloved dentist started to retire and brought a new dentist on board.

Yuck.

But I adapted... 

... as I do....

BAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!

...and I grew to kinda almost like his replacement...especially because she always, without fail, tells me how boring my teeth are (which she means in the best way possible). I get a warm, deep feeling of satisfaction and pride every time I hear those words.

BUT....

They don't ring as true as they used to anymore...

...not since I turned 40 ....or 39...maybe it was 38.

Regardless...

A while back, there was a 3 year stretch where finances didn't allow for dental visits (The kids?...yes. The parents?...not so much)

So, my first visit back after my dental hiatus was less than pleasant ....lots of scraping and tsk-tsking...very VERY ouchie. It was so incredibly UNpleasant...especially for someone who was used to the dentist chair being a place of smiles and joy...that I made a solemn promise to my Self that went a little something like this:

Self, I swear...upon all that is sacred in this Universe and, quite possibly, beyond...that we will never ever EVER again have to endure such hellish hell in a dentist chair as we did today. We will be fucking impeccable in our dental hygiene. Fucking. Impeccable. And, we know what that means, right Self?? Flossing. Every. Single. Day.

And you know what???

I did it.

I flossed.

Every. Single. Day.

Without fail.

For 6-9 months.

I'm not known for my follow-through skills, so this was an accomplishment that I was pumped about.

And I was actually excited to get back in that chair 6-9 months later so I could show off my born-again "boring” teeth and enjoy a pain-free teeth-cleaning.

And you know what???

It hurt like a bastard...

I'd even go so far as to say that it hurt...

Like a motherfucker.

It did.

Holy shit.

I left that office in a morose state of frustrated disillusionment/disappointment. 

And, I was actually kinda pissed off.

I may have even gone home and crunched on some ice cubes and ate some salt water taffy .... and a candy apple ...without waiting 30 minutes.

I do know for sure, that, out of spite, I gave up flossing cold turkey.

Fuck’em.

See how I showed them???

My sense of logic is astounding.

Anyhow...

It was explained to me on my next visit...which I pouted through(not easy to do with your mouth prised open)...that when women reach “a certain age” their mouths undergo some changes.

Talk about adding insult to injury.

It was the first time in my life that it became glaringly obvious that I was getting old. 

I was of “a certain age”.

Mortality set in.

Crap.

See why I don't like going to the dentist anymore!! 

Jerks.

Anyhow, it would seem that when you get “old” your gums recede and expose nerves on your teeth and that makes them more sensitive to all the poking and prodding and scraping....thereby, making trips to the dentist suck balls.

So, to further depress my Self, as soon as I got my 38/39/40 year old Self home after that crappy appointment, I Google’d "receding gums".

Holy shit. 

You should see some of that craziness.

It's HORRIFYING!!!!

And it sure made me follow their advice and I modified my brushing habits....

I was all “up like the flowers/down like the rain”, reserving "back and forth like a choo choo train" for only the chewing surfaces. (Previously, I was primarily and indiscriminately “back and forth like a choo choo train” all over the place)

Anyhow,

This whole anti-dentist rant and rampage comes on the heels of my last check-up/cleaning that, even with a handful of Advil, once again, hurt like a motherfucker.

Stupid receded gums and exposed nerves.

AND!!!!

I'm pretty sure the woman who did my cleaning was drunk. She bounced polishers and ultra-sonic blasters off my bicuspids and suctioned my cheeks and tongue all willy-nilly-like and was merciless with all those sharp pointy metal spears. AND she was not sensitive to my jaw issue (I've got TMJ that warrants a whole post of its own...oyyoyyoy) and I had to keep tapping-out so she’d remove her weapons of mass pain-induction from my mouth so my aching jaw could have a 5 second reprieve.

AND!!!

She reminded me that the recession of my gums was typical for women “my age”.

AND!!!

She totally threw my daily morning routine into chaos by telling me that recent studies show that brushing your teeth less than 2-3 hours after drinking acidic beverages like wine, coffee and orange juice wreaks havoc on tooth enamel and will ultimately destroy it, leaving your teeth defenceless and wide open for decay to set in...

So, there goes my breakfast 1/2 carafe of red.

Haha!!

 Just jokes.

I don't do wine...or coffee.

But I do LOVE a small glass or two of OJ every morning with my cereal in order to wash down my HappyPills, and now, I can't do that AND have enamel on my teeth at the same time.

It's either brush my teeth BEFORE I drink my juice...BLECH!!

 OR

 ...drink my juice and forgo brushing my teeth...BLECH!!!

Both untenable.

Lose/Lose.

My hands are tied.

I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place...and I sure as hell can’t eat either a rock or a hard place because I have to limit my intake of hard foods...like apples(!!!???)...in order to avoid putting undue stress on both my dodgy gums and my teeth that are now showing the beginnings of cracks because I clench my teeth when I sleep...and when I'm awake.

They've recommended a night guard. 

Oh, and I forgot to mention that I have a recurring dream/nightmare where my teeth crumble and fall apart in my mouth and I have to constantly spit them out...nice.

So, I guess all this tooth doom and gloom stems from the simple fact that I'm just bummed out by the thought that I am in for 40 minutes to an hour of torturous pain every 6-9 months...for the Rest of My Life.

I don't even want to think of the possibility of a lifetime of OJ-less breakfasts...

...or an eternity of nights saddled with a sexy and romantic night guard...

You see why I've had it up to HERE with dentists???

hmmmmph

Now, for a bedtime snack of jello, mashed potatoes and Sensodyne.

G'night.