Getting Butt fucked By Your Dentist

In the next hour in my life, I’ll embark on a mission. Some years back,  a decade and some change, I lost my front tooth in a pick up basketball game.  My poor mother couldn’t fix it and without dental insurance, the tooth was lost. It came out, root and all, and with no milk or way to fortify the nerve,  I was now snaggle-toothed. For a decade after I shied away from smiling and showing my open mouth for long times out of shame for the appearance and at times to protect my plastic, ceramic flipper from falling out due to the elements and forces of nature.  It was horrible, the flipper, a dirty piece of plastic; it made a barrier that slipped into the roof of my mouth and locked into the gap sealing the top row of teeth with a white, fake tooth. The prosthetic helped the appearance but i knew to never trust it with an apple or hard candy.  Because the barrier between the piece and the roof of my mouth was thin, I developed pretty horrible gingivitis, with gums bleeding at when brushing to prove it. Ill. Nasty. After nearly a decade of using this piece I finally upgraded to the implant. This was no easy process.

If I was on my job,  this post would have made it up 3 years ago but it’s hard to save money and then convince yourself to pay said money to a dentist,  who is likely going to put you through a little pain.  And by little I mean alot. The first part was removing bone and grafting new bone to create room for the root. In the decade of using the flipper piece, my teeth shift out of place and the room to grow was annexed by a crooked canine tooth.  This was a two week process,  requiring two surgeries and anesthesia, but in the end,  I had new roots though,  mechanical.

I should have fit the final crown right away but I went on a vacation from the corporate world to pursue my dreams of music entrepreneurship so I had no benefits to finish the rest of the work, which totaled about 5,000 bucks with benefits.  With no COBRA protections,  I didn’t care to review the cost without insurance.  Instead I wore temporary veneers, cycling through a few every few years.  I should have definitely swapped them more often,  but trust,  I learned more than that.  Now I’m wrapping up the saga. Final results expected soon.  I’m hoping I Iove it. I know I’m going to pay the cost to be the boss this time.  Even if it takes a sore bunghole. Or wallet.

In the crater where mine once stayed. 

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