Lately I've been over consumed with matters of the mouth.
Recently, I started preparing for my bi-annual teeth cleaning. The week before the appointment was full of avoidance. Avoidance of coffee without straws, jolly ranchers and lemon juice. Not that I eat those things regularly, but I certainly know their catastrophic affects on your enamel. Don't ever say I don't read my pamphlets! I also flossed like it was going out of style. I guess I was hoping my week of extra devotion to my mouth would would trick the dental professionals into paying me and my chops a compliment... or that somehow, a week of brushing my teeth "with soft-to-medium strokes in the correct direction of gum growth for the duration of two ABC songs" would change the amount of plaque that's accumulated on my enamel over the past 6 months. Well, it probably doesn't, but I FELT clean going into my cleaning and that's all that counts. And folks, I'm here to tell ya, I'm proof that cramming works. From studying to flossing, I've mastered the technique of pseudo-preparation. That compliment I was fishing for? I got it. From the dental assistant. When I laid down and opened up, she said "oh, pretty teeth". But right before I let my heart smile because my work didn't go unnoticed, I realized she must see the retched teeth from those "before and after" photos daily, so I took the compliment with a grain of salt.
I was also thinking about how awkward dentistry is. Almost more intimate than OB-GYN. Have you ever thought about how strange it is to have someone picking in your mouth like that? And why on earth do they try to carry on conversation with you? It's actually a form of torture for talkers like myself. I like to talk, and ask and answer without fists and metal objects in my mouth.
I'm also arriving at the big decision to have my wisdom teeth removed. I've been told I'm 3 wise, missing 1 unit of wisdom. One of my wisdom teeth is visible to me and is my favorite substitute in the chewing game when my first string is tired. (Just kidding, but I really enjoyed that metaphor). Anyway, not too long ago, I picked up my best friend from her oral surgery and had the time of my life! The girl was 2 whole minutes out of anesthesia trying to speak intelligently on the terms of her insurance coverage. Really smart things were coming out of her slow-slurring, cotton-filled mouth. It was hysterical and I'd love to provide that entertainment to someone... except I'm terrified of dry socket and not sure really smart things will come out of my mouth.
But really, there's no option. In no time at all, I'll be back in school for a year and half with no dental insurance to speak of... so now's the time... carpe diem, little tooths.