...IN MY MOUTH.
I had six teeth pulled today. SIX!!!!!!!
I only expected it to be four, because of what I could count with my tongue. They were the roots of dead teeth, long broken off and bygone. Their jagged points littered the landscape of my gums like picket fences on a beach. Mostly, they were molars, so they weren't visible when I smile. But I always felt them, and when I chewed meat or the like ... well you don't really want to hear how a good five minutes of chewing on that wreckage would change the landscape for the worse. But Mr. Dentist also decided that the well-submerged roots on the opposite side of my mouth should go, as well as the one capped survivor standing tall in the midst of the debris. Poor little fella.
The peril of having those teeth staying in my head was twofold. One, they were rotting. There's no telling how much poison my liver has had to filter over the years thanks to those teeth.
And Two, I was never able to develop a good kissing style. All I've ever done was mash lips because I didn't want her to probe in and feel the disgusting wreckage behind my smile. No lie. I was ashamed of those things. Horribly. I didn't want my own tongue to run across them, let alone anyone else's.
But they're gone now. Come on in! The water's fine! :D
One Percocet, two Motrin, a near-puke-up on the 1 train from the queasies, an overpriced soup, and a Jamba Juice smoothie later, and I'm on top of the world! I honestly feel no pain right now. I'll need to be fitted for partial dentures after these stitches come out, since dental implants are way too expensive even with my insurance, and I'm not keen on adding an additional payment to the cost of my living.
But I'm looking forward to tucking into a ribeye with abandon.
And other things. ;-)