TOOTH-SNAPPING AND OTHER DISASTERS

I'm having a rough week.  Right smack in the middle of it, I crack a tooth.  Actually, I do more than crack it; I snap a piece of that sucker right off.

It all starts when I steal my son's late-night dinner.  He arrives home from playing flag football, and I wander into the living room, following my nose.  I openly steal right from his take-out container.  When I grab a piece of chicken, I bite down hard without paying much attention to what I'm doing.

Unfortunately, the place in my mouth that I use to put the biggest force on the chicken is a place that is already compromised.  There's a part of my jaw that has been beaten down since I was a small kid and fell into a coffee table, whacking out several teeth.  Years later, a failed root canal and a surgical procedure to fix a gum/jaw infection did little to help that section of bone structure.  Last year I had some facial surgery right at the same spot, too.  It's like there's a target over my left cheek.

Oh, but my poor broken tooth.  I feel so guilty.  I feel like a bad human, a bad skeleton.  I feel like I've let the Tooth Fairy down.  This poor tooth has been through so much already and has a massive filling holding it together. The tooth has shifted ever-so-slightly from its mooring, and that sucker has been on borrowed time for most of my life.

Still, however, it has always been the Little Tooth That Could.  Tonight, it's The Little Tooth That Couldn't Any Longer.

Unfortunately for my tooth, the dentist is out of town and will be for about four days.  I could see another dentist, but I'm not in any pain (yet), and I'm not letting anyone touch my tooth except Dr. P, anyway, so there's no point.  Besides, I'm slightly afraid that another dentist will knock the filling out, expose the nerve, and leave me writhing and miserable until Dr. P comes back.  It's not a front tooth; I'm not looking like a hockey player or anything like that.  The tooth only snapped in the back.  The front of the tooth still looks fabulous.  Of course, the jagged little edge annoys the hell out of my tongue, but I'm trying not to loosen anything else.

This is a long, sad saga, for sure.  There is some good news, though.  I will be seeing Dr. P on Monday afternoon.  I'm taking it all as a good sign because I believe in humor and coincidence.  You see, my dentist appointment is actually at the perfect time --  2:30.  Yes, tooth-hurty.  The irony is not lost on me.  I do, however, hope that there is NO "hurty" in this tooth situation.  I already feel horrible for breaking the poor baby in the first place.  I hope that's pain enough for me.