Putting Money Where Part Of My Mouth Used To Be

I went into the kitchen last night and made a lighthearted search for something filling without a whole lot of prep trouble. I settled with a rice cake. I pulled it out, thought about adding a thick layer of peanut butter on it, but then just bit into it. Something didn’t feel right in the bottom front of my mouth. I didn’t even bite through the stale rice cake. So, I pulled that joker away from my mouth and sure enough… My tongue immediately found the problem as to why something didn’t feel right. I looked at the bottom of the rice cake and there it was… My bridge had come loose and was stuck into that rice cake.

My tongue could feel the posts sticking out of my gums. Wonderful, I thought to myself.

I retrieved the bridge and took it to the bathroom with me. I took a little look at the posts and my bridge. I pushed it back into place and decided not to bite into anything else. Hopefully, I could make it until morning when and if the dentist could take me in for a light emergency visit.

I managed to sleep with it all night without it swallowing it or waking up choking on it. I also knew that I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep without it back in place because my tongue and brain would absolutely spend all night feeling and thinking about the empty area.

I contacted my dental hygienist friend about costs and what to expect. In my mind, I saw our bank account starring as one of the car crashes on the old TV series CHiPs.



There was going to be screaming, covering of eyes, objects sailing through the air, and things bursting into flames.

She had some good news, but I still had a nagging feeling.

I called my dentist’s office as soon as they opened this morning. They could squeeze me in at 8:50.

So, I jumped in the shower and got dressed like the house was on fire. I made the office at 8:43 and they took me back before I could place my flabby, pasty-white buns onto the couch in the waiting room.

They cleaned it all up, slapped on some cement, and pressed that joker back into place. And the realistic picture is… It will eventually have to be replaced with a new bridge ALL THE WAY across the front bottom of my mouth. OR, I could get a partial denture.

I have taken in consideration my age, our bank account, and my possible remaining years above ground. If, and I stress IF, I manage to keep breathing for 25 more years then a partial denture is the way to go. All my pretty years have been behind me since Clinton was in office. And I have fully accepted that my biting into food years are gone too. I had a good run with what I got when I had to have a bridge put in after a car accident in 1987.

I noticed that my bridge felt loose MONTHS ago. I backed off eating things that required me to bite or pull foods that required the use my front teeth. I started using my fingers to pull foods apart. I was eating more foods in nugget form. I felt like that I could nurse and carry my bridge along to the grave with me.

But here we are and I’m still going to do less biting. I just don’t like putting 5 to 15K into my mouth at such a late time in my life. ESPECIALLY when my wife is the major bread winner in our home. She didn’t ask for this when I knocked my teeth out in February of 1987. She is adamant about having something done about it. She doesn’t want me to live life with her like a toothless hockey player. Oh no! Having front teeth is important to her.

My father knocked out an upper incisor out years ago, but refuses to do anything about it. My wife likes a toothy mouth. She cannot accept that kind of thing. But I can’t see putting something into my mouth that could cost more than a brand-new Kia Rio.

I think that I can live out the rest of my days with a partial denture that costs the same as a new Kawasaki Ninja 400. I can live with that.