I love this metaphor, having recently had a rather extensive mouth edit myself, and Iām so looking forward to working with you on editing my book. Which I expect will be a lot less painful. š
Great perspective, Suzy. Being the 7th of 9, Irish Catholic, by the time I was six, I had a mouth full of decay. But my parents got my teeth fixed and I had numerous molars filled with mercury filling. Then, when I was 20, in 1986, I had about $1,500 worth of work done. A lot at the time. The dentist, a Dr. Robert Jones of Woodstock Street told me, "By the time you're about 45, you'll lose all your back molars." When I asked why, he told me that I wouldn't have the bone left in my jaw and he just suspected that I would.
Well, I decided that I'd take great care of my teeth that year, and I did. I still have ALL of my teeth, but a month ago, I went to the dentist to have my teeth ex-rayed and cleaned. It had been about three years. They took ex-rays and then the dentist told me that my two back molars on my lower left hand side were... "loose." I was horrified. Loose? How could that be?
"They're loose?"
"Yeah! They're loose!"
He wasn't very nice but he was young so...
"But why are they loose?"
"Well, on that side, you just don't have enough bone."
"Will they have to come out right away?"
"Not right away, but in time, yes. We'll just play it by ear for now."
Dr. Jones said I'd lose all my back molars at 45 and I'm now 59, and I still have them, so I'd say that is a victory. But I was surprised how sad this made me feel. Like I'd be losing this integral part of myself. I know that if they come out, I'm going to keep them. I felt sad and strangely moved, thinking of losing these two old teeth that are about 40 percent mercury filling, like losing a pet that you've always been fond of.
After the dentist left the room, I handled both teeth and by golly, they're a little bit loose. Certainly not like my other teeth, which seem to be doing fine. I'm not looking forward to it, because I know it's going to make me feel really down. There's no way around it, aging is full of unexpected surprises. Like feeling genuine sadness that two of your molars, that you've had your whole life are going to make their departure one day and end up in a box on your office desk.
Oh, Theresa, I am sorry youāre facing that. When the dentist speculated on my dental future and certain demise of whatās left of my crumbled stub of a tooth, I felt that same loss. Aging really is the shits.
Wow, you read my mind today! This came at JUST the right time as I wrote the opening of the book this morning (although who knows if that will stand) and then found myself befuddled as to what the next scene is. Also, somewhat horrifyingly, I asked Rene in an email, What is a scene? Ahhahahaeeeeeeowwww! (Of note: I didn't expect her to answer...I can ask Uncle Google to start...but I was expressing the honest truth of my greenness. Also, I really didn't know the crux of a scene but now, thanks to your message, I have some of the beating heart of the matter.) THANK YOU, Chief Editress. Obviously, I'm not delighted about your dental visit but glad we have the technology to help. <zipping mouth about costs of health and dental care in this country> Love to you!
How serendipitous! I just got back from the dentist! I have a failed root canal š¦· that is threatening the nearby teeth. Love your description of this aging process. ā¤ļøššš„°š¤šā¤ļø
Oh, molar woe! Leave it to you, dear Suzy, to "extract" (*snort*) meaning from a visit to the dentist. Can't wait for you to mine my new manuscript for darlings to kill, or rehab, so the story lives to see another day!
Have you ever read 84, Charing Cross Road? Helene Hanff is the author and she writes hilarious bits about books and longing to go to England. She has one place where she has been invited to go to London, "but my dentist says I need (dental work) and, as *I've gotten used to having teeth, I want to keep them.*" (*emphasis mine*)
I have used her line many a time -- I have gotten used to having teeth. So I guess I'll floss them.
I love this metaphor, having recently had a rather extensive mouth edit myself, and Iām so looking forward to working with you on editing my book. Which I expect will be a lot less painful. š
Great perspective, Suzy. Being the 7th of 9, Irish Catholic, by the time I was six, I had a mouth full of decay. But my parents got my teeth fixed and I had numerous molars filled with mercury filling. Then, when I was 20, in 1986, I had about $1,500 worth of work done. A lot at the time. The dentist, a Dr. Robert Jones of Woodstock Street told me, "By the time you're about 45, you'll lose all your back molars." When I asked why, he told me that I wouldn't have the bone left in my jaw and he just suspected that I would.
Well, I decided that I'd take great care of my teeth that year, and I did. I still have ALL of my teeth, but a month ago, I went to the dentist to have my teeth ex-rayed and cleaned. It had been about three years. They took ex-rays and then the dentist told me that my two back molars on my lower left hand side were... "loose." I was horrified. Loose? How could that be?
"They're loose?"
"Yeah! They're loose!"
He wasn't very nice but he was young so...
"But why are they loose?"
"Well, on that side, you just don't have enough bone."
"Will they have to come out right away?"
"Not right away, but in time, yes. We'll just play it by ear for now."
Dr. Jones said I'd lose all my back molars at 45 and I'm now 59, and I still have them, so I'd say that is a victory. But I was surprised how sad this made me feel. Like I'd be losing this integral part of myself. I know that if they come out, I'm going to keep them. I felt sad and strangely moved, thinking of losing these two old teeth that are about 40 percent mercury filling, like losing a pet that you've always been fond of.
After the dentist left the room, I handled both teeth and by golly, they're a little bit loose. Certainly not like my other teeth, which seem to be doing fine. I'm not looking forward to it, because I know it's going to make me feel really down. There's no way around it, aging is full of unexpected surprises. Like feeling genuine sadness that two of your molars, that you've had your whole life are going to make their departure one day and end up in a box on your office desk.
Oh, Theresa, I am sorry youāre facing that. When the dentist speculated on my dental future and certain demise of whatās left of my crumbled stub of a tooth, I felt that same loss. Aging really is the shits.
Wow, you read my mind today! This came at JUST the right time as I wrote the opening of the book this morning (although who knows if that will stand) and then found myself befuddled as to what the next scene is. Also, somewhat horrifyingly, I asked Rene in an email, What is a scene? Ahhahahaeeeeeeowwww! (Of note: I didn't expect her to answer...I can ask Uncle Google to start...but I was expressing the honest truth of my greenness. Also, I really didn't know the crux of a scene but now, thanks to your message, I have some of the beating heart of the matter.) THANK YOU, Chief Editress. Obviously, I'm not delighted about your dental visit but glad we have the technology to help. <zipping mouth about costs of health and dental care in this country> Love to you!
You got this, Sun! Sending scene-building energy your way.
I thought of the next scene while walking the dogs this evening. You were an actual muse today. Thank you.
Awwww! Thanks for that. š
How serendipitous! I just got back from the dentist! I have a failed root canal š¦· that is threatening the nearby teeth. Love your description of this aging process. ā¤ļøššš„°š¤šā¤ļø
OMG. I feel your pain. Literally, as the Novocain is now wearing off. (3 shots. The needle to the roof of my mouth was the worst!)
Yes! I hated that needle to the roof of the mouth!
Oh, molar woe! Leave it to you, dear Suzy, to "extract" (*snort*) meaning from a visit to the dentist. Can't wait for you to mine my new manuscript for darlings to kill, or rehab, so the story lives to see another day!
Rehab darlings! That's the best. Love it.
LOL, Suzy! And thanks for the great advice! Best wishes for a long and successful relationship with your new tooth. xo
I can't stop licking that part of my gumline. Like a dog does when hurt. Wah.
Have you ever read 84, Charing Cross Road? Helene Hanff is the author and she writes hilarious bits about books and longing to go to England. She has one place where she has been invited to go to London, "but my dentist says I need (dental work) and, as *I've gotten used to having teeth, I want to keep them.*" (*emphasis mine*)
I have used her line many a time -- I have gotten used to having teeth. So I guess I'll floss them.
I must read her!