Back in the blissful ignorance of my fading youth I lived free of care and free of pain. I was constantly confused, though it seemed normal at the time. I didn’t worry about everyday trivialities like receding hair and receding gums.
Now of course it’s safe to say that I’m smarter than I have ever been before. I understand all sorts of shapes, colors, sounds and movement, and to top it all off, my gums hurt worse than new taxes.
I was so excited after I got my original two teeth in because I was just sure I was done. Now, due to no lack of dental hygiene on my part, my gums are receding with an awful kind of fury.
When they talk about receding gums on the hypno-box, (which I’ve since learned is called a television) they’re only talking about a couple extra millimeters. My case? No such luck. My gummy Appalachians are erupting all volcano-like, exposing sharp chunks of bony matter. Great for masticating not so good for meditating. It’s kind of hard to ignore the volcanic nature of it all and get into my Zen zone.
|I’ve been told that what I’m experiencing is not too different from getting wisdom teeth, (which no one speaks too highly of) except instead of four chompers over three to five years imagine 28 in under 18 months. Do you understand my grief? Can you share in my concern?
I’m not trying to suggest I’ll get two teeth a month for life or anything. I’m not a shark, you know. Yes, I hope and believe this agony is temporary, but let’s not argue away my discomfort here, okay? This is pretty traumatic stuff here.
Since sharing my feelings isn’t helping to alleviate them, I’m going to ask you to be patient with me. This isn’t my idea of fun and if it makes me testy, I’m sorry. If my grouchitude puts you out of sorts, just try to remember how uncomfortable I am and that I really don’t understand why I’m in so much pain.