The Tale of the Tooth.

After my marathon blogging last week, I forgot to mention one of the most significant things that happened to me while we were home for Christmas. I don't know how I managed to miss it, as it was the element of my week that almost ruined Christmas for me...well, maybe not Christmas, but my ability to fully partake in the enjoyment of it. Normally I would consider it insignificant, but due to recent developments tonight, it's surfaced once again. Let me set it up for you, for full dramatic effect...

My Dad is a candy lover, and at Christmas, a peanut brittle lover. I myself don't like peanut brittle, never have, but for some stupid reason I forgot that this year. Perhaps that's because all I heard about from my sister (who shall remain nameless, because I may blame her just a bit still!) was that she found this amazing peanut brittle that Dad was going to love. It was from some little candy shop on the coast(that may give her innocence away)and they apparently make peanut brittle that isn't hard and "brittle" but instead creamy and buttery. I have to admit, my interests were peaked and I thought maybe I'd been wrong all these years about it, so when the gift was given and my Dad unwrapped it, I unfortunately gave in and tried it. Big mistake.

Admittedly, my first impression was one of sheer delight. I could immediately detect the buttery flavor and it seemed very tasty. I still wouldn't have called it "creamy" just not as hard as peanut brittle I'd had in the past. And that's where the irony lies. I, who does not like or eat peanut brittle, decided to taste the "creamy" kind and thus paid the heavy price, owed by so many peanut brittle fans...while swallowing a delicious bite, I apparently swalled half of my tooth that was stuck to it! It took me a few seconds to realize what had just happened, but the gaping hole in the back of my mouth and the razor sharp edge now rubbing against my tongue was an immediate reminder of the now obvious peanut brittle "accident." Oh, and it was Christmas morning when this happened, which of course meant that I was just beginning to eat all the wonderful things we had been making for the week and now I was going to be "enjoying" it all on the right side of my mouth. Did I mention I don't even like peanut brittle?

Needless to say, I had to wait to go to the dentist until we got home and when I did, I was in for quite a "treat", as it had been almost 6 years since I'd been to a dentist. I of course apologized profusely for my lack of dental visits over the last few years, but I explained the lack of insurance for awhile, the chaos of moving, and my sheer laziness in making an appointment. These all seemed to be fine excuses for my hygenist, who smiled and told me that it was very normal for them to hear that often and the important thing was that I was here now...I was pleasantly surprised and even at ease after her sweet demeanor and her kind explanation, "this wasn't so bad" I thought and I wondered what the big deal was about going to the dentist??

Well, I jumped to that conclusion too soon and before I knew it, the dentist walked it...and then my sweet little hygenist suddenly became a tad critical and sarcastic (a trait I most certainly do not appreciate or relate to by the way). She started by telling my dentist who I was, where I had been and what my husband did. How nice she was, even remembering that I was about to go to our New Year's Eve event, and telling the dentist that I was just as "nice as can be." She opened my mouth, starting shoving things that are WAY TOO BIG for any human mouth to handle and got me all ready for the dentist. Then she did it. She began explaining what happened to my tooth over Christmas and she came up with the statement that I was not seeing a dentist for my dental needs but that I was instead "self treating" and had been for almost 6 years. Of course she chose to say that when my mouth was pried open and I could not even remotely defend myself and then I had to endure "the look" and a lecture from my new dentist. Can you believe it? I kind of wanted to say "Hey Nancy( I don't know if that's her name, but it seems like it should be!), keep your mouth shut! I'll do my own explaining thank you!"

An hour later, I made it out of there with a temporary filling, two more appointments and a print out of my new "treatment plan." Yes, that's right. It seems after six years away, I now need enough work to constitute a "PLAN." However, as part of my "plan", I was going to have to decide which type of filling I'd like to pre-order...the obvious choice was the white composite one, but I was told to check with my insurance company as they typically charge more for that choice (vs. silver) and it will require a down payment. If we were talking about one tooth I wouldn't care, but because my "plan" covers a ridiculous number of teeth, the extra charges could be the difference between some new furniture for the Armstrongs or not. Good grief. Can you blame me for staying away for six years? Seriously, I am not anit-dentist and I truly do value good dental hygiene. I've appreciated my temporary filling, as it's allowed me to eat normally again, and I'm very thankful for our great dental insurance. But that was an hour ago. That was before I ate a cookie and apparently before my "very-temporary" filling FELL OUT. Can you believe the luck?

I'm back to square one, with my gaping hole and jagged tooth...and I can hardly wait to call the dentist in the morning to update my "treatment plan."