Quite possibly the most compelling story ever.

A filling fell out of my right-most lower molar (#32) about a month-and-a-half ago. I figured that with care, I could wait until spring break to have a dentist examine it. Incorrect. About a week ago, whilst brushing my teeth and using a toothpick, a rather large piece of the tooth in question broke off. I felt no pain, just bemusement at parting ways with something that’d been with me the better part of my life.

The next day another piece came off while I was driving home. Again there was no pain in the tooth, but it left behind a very sharp edge that cut into my tongue. That was painful. I bought one of them-there mouth-guards people wear at night to stop teeth-grinding, cut it in half, chomped down on the right half, and wore it that night and the next day at school. It rubbed against my gums hard enough that the pain almost rivaled that of the tooth’s edge slicing my tongue. I figured it might be time to call the dentist.

I spent Friday morning at the dentist. She had a look, confirmed that my broken tooth was, indeed, broken, took an X-ray, and announced that I’d have to have an extraction. I initially thought this would involve an amphibious assault team and a helicopter or some such, which would have been awesome, but it turns out it meant yanking out a tooth. That’ll have to do. She kindly sanded down the sharp edge of my tooth, and as she did so I could see puffs of a fine, white dust coming from the sander. That was a bit odd.

So next Tuesday evening, I will receive cash money from the Tooth Fairy for the first time in ages. I will weigh approximately four grams less on my right side than on my left. I don’t anticipate any difficulties with my balance; I lost a lymph node when I was ten and have not been walking in circles ever since.

I will miss my friend, #32, my right mandibular third molar. I shall compose a poem in its honor, to be published shortly after extraction.

I recently had an opportunity to trot out the old “My birthday is always on Thanksgiving” gag. One out of two targets fell for it. I shall refrain from further comment.

2 thoughts on “Quite possibly the most compelling story ever.

  1. I’m impressed you had your wisdom teeth this long.

    I’ve been without nos. 1, 16, 17, and 32 for almost 20 years. You’ll get over it.


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