Toothless

Or, rather, one tooth less.  I lost a tooth yesterday.

I have always had rather good teeth.  They've not been great, but they haven't given me lots of problems and they're generally not painful.  I am happy with them and they've served me well.  So my mental image of my teeth didn't include one being pulled yesterday.  But that's what ended up happening.

My former dentist retired and I had only seen the new dentist once for a cleaning during my second pregnancy.  But now that I'm pregnant-free, it was time to get them cleaned, X-rays updated and evaluated.  I should have gone before now, what with my daughter being eight-months-old, but it wasn't as high a priority as it should have been.  Never is, right?

So a chip came along in a molar and reminded me daily that I needed to get to the dentist.  Just in time with the appointment, this tooth that eventually got pulled started hurting.   When they evaluated my teeth, that one was in sorry shape, twenty-year metal filling with clear decay all around it.  A large fracture down the side of the tooth and pain that had just begun.

The dentist said he would try to save the tooth if I wanted to, but he would pull it if it was his.  It was a second molar and I wouldn't miss it most likely.  (Talking to family and friends since this news has confirmed that most people don't need the back molars to eat effectively and normally.)  He would try to save it, but it was going to have to have a crown, hell, there wasn't much tooth left that wasn't a wreck.  And he would definitely have to do a root canal because of the depth of the decay on the X-ray. 

He thought he could save it for a few minutes, but then discovered there was calcification in one of the roots from a long-gone infection.  So he pulled it. 

Here's a useful piece of information: teeth don't want to be pulled.  They will do everything in their power to keep snug in your mouth.   As such, my jaw and gums are quite sore.  But the hole is already filling in and I think all is going well.

Two days ago, I got the news initially that I was going to not only lose a tooth the following day, but it was going to be expensive and, oh, there is a lot more work that needs to be done and you don't have that great set of teeth you used to have.  I came home and was in a funk.  I suppose shock and depression (on a minor mouth-centric level.)   Shock because how much was this going to cost to fix?! (He gave me a handy estimate) and depression/grief because I didn't want to lose a tooth.

My husband said I had lost my mojo.  I didn't have energy to do anything.  I say on the couch and I didn't even think about what needed to be done and how I should be getting up to get things done.  I felt like my arms and legs were made of heavier stuff than normal.  I was able to eat ice cream though, so I knew I was going to pull through.

I worked through the funk quickly enough (aside from the shock of how expensive dental work is) with some good advice from both my parents and in-laws.  They had advice from experience which was both calming and reassuring.

So today, one less tooth.  In a few weeks, more work to get other bits of my mouth in order. 
Next, I think I'm going to start a fund raiser project with my cute son and daughter to help defray the costs of my expensive mouth

The Big Boy Update:  "Pops!"  We got these plastic pops from our friends.  They're little colored things with a male and female end.  You link them together and make chains or rings.  A few weeks ago he liked them, but he didn't get how to put them together.  He could pull them apart and then he'd try to put them together, sometimes succeeding, but not having an overall plan with what he was doing.  Today, the pops are out again and he gets it.  He gets some design in his head which might include making a large ring or a chain.  He breaks the current chain apart and pulls off some pieces and then relocates them to another end.  It's an entirely different way that he's interacting with the pops today.  He also has been saying, "pops" repeatedly to go along with the play.


The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The Finger Bowl.  My mother likes to finish mealtime cleanup with my son by bringing over a bowl full of water so he can get his hands really clean.   He loves the bowl.  It's a great idea and it's fun for him too.  I'd never tried it with my daughter until today.  She wasn't sure what to do at first, but when she realized there was a small body of water in front of her she could put her hands in and splash, she got into, "finger bowl time."

Fitness Update:  Running together is less work.  I ran with my neighbor again this morning.  We chat and gab and talk the whole way around the park.  And we're both likely to add on more distance if we're close to a mile or time goal and can wedge in the time.  Today, when we were done and had run six miles it seemed like not only had the time flown, but we were able to make the run being less tired because we weren't paying attention as much as we would running alone.