I Wish I Were A Vampire . . .

. . . ‘Cause my teeth would grow back, like instantly.  As a few people on atgg already know, one of my molars fractured in two about, like, a day after my previous post here to the blog.  Fortunately, I had a root canal on this tooth when I was 8, which means it’s been dead for almost 30 years and not causing me much pain other than inflammation of the surrounding gums, which have gone away.  As long as I don’t try to eat my food on that side of the mouth (and I’m a right-sidey, where the tooth is located), I’m fine-ish.  Except for the stress-related cold store that has just appeared on my lip over the pas couple of days and is waaaaaaaay more painful than the tooth as long as I, like, don’t try to use the tooth to chew food.

Meanwhile, the dentist is trying to play it conservative and not pull the tooth if he doesn’t absolutely have to — even though, if it were a good candidate to save (which it’s not), getting it crowned would still be more expensive than just pulling it.  I can understand totally understand that motive, but I’m at the point where I just want the fershlugginer thing gone.  I never had wisdom teeth to begin with — ctually, my back molars *are* my wisdom teeth, I’m actually missing a full set of inner molars.  Lucky me, I’m a mutant.  BID. — and this tooth seems to be headed for the junkpile anyway.  I just want it gone.  Buuuuut the dentist, in his totally responsible cautiousness, has had me put gauze soaked in epsom salts in that side of my mouth in order to cut down on the inflammation and any likely infection in it.  So now we’ve been playing phone tag since last Friday to see how I’m doing.

And this is where living out in the boonies, beyond even the limit line of the small town I allegedly live in-ish, sucks.  It means that I’m on a land-line, which means, I don’t get to sign on line and do blogs and newsgroups until basically after business time every week day until the dentist and I finally agree that the damn tooth has got to go.

And oh, yeah, there’s a snow-front coming our way.  (cue weepy violins, then shoot them).  So, I wonder — what would Jim from The Office do?  Huh?!  Tell me!  What would Jim from The Office do?!

So, fractured tooth, epsom salts, stress-induced cold sore, phone tag, impending snow and a cautious, responsible dentist — sounds to me like enough material for a sitcom.   I mean, how else to explain the existence of the horrendously awful Knights of Prosperity?

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4 Responses to “I Wish I Were A Vampire . . .”

  1. John Says:

    I am sorry for the tooth.

    I had a cracked molar about a yar ago (it had previously had a filing) and they crowned it. I now feel like royalty.

    Good luck with molar/wisdom tooth.

  2. shutuprob Says:

    Yeah, I kinda know how you feel about the crown — that’s why I like to say I was born without wisdom teeth (actually, that was how my orthodontist put it back when I was getting my braces put in as a teenager) — ’cause, it’s like, I can say “I was born with enough wisdom already!” Which, come to think of it, works either way. “I have enough wisdom that I didn’t need those four extra molars!” I’ve gotta say, I don’t envy people who have *living* teeth fracture on them. I can just picture the nerves just killing them anytime anything hot or cold touches the tooth. Since my tooth was dead to begin with, as long as I don’t chew there, I can bide my time until the dentist makes up his mind and my stock of soups and other mushy food hold out. Switching away from everthing carbonated to room temperature Arizona Green Tea is also helping a lot.

  3. John Says:

    Your wisdom teeth “bit” reminds me of Barney and his cold “My nose was so filled with Awsome some had run out”. Or something like that.

  4. BloodySpunkyScarlett Says:

    So what has happened with the teeth? Just a little curious! You haven’t posted in a while!

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