Tooth Jankers

Yesterday’s early morning visit with my new dentist went well—I really like Doctor Magee. Yes, I'm stunned and thrilled with this development.

I’ve been dreading going to the fang-puller—haven’t been in forever and a half. Why not? I haven’t had dental insurance and, incredibly, medical insurance does NOT cover dental health. Does this make sense? FUCK NO! Are my teeth and gums NOT part of my physical being?  (they are!) Medicare covers the rest of me—WHY not my gums and chompers? CAPITALISM—that's why. Okay, I'll stop that particular rant now. Sorry.

The other reason I've not darken the dental office door? Every single tooth mechanic I’ve had, prior to Dr. Magee, has been one of those slimy frat boy types. You know, slickly dressed with ultra fastidious grooming and SO utterly confident and pleased with themselves that they sparkled. Dudes all wore these clearly fake smiles and rocked a transparently weasel-shit ‘pleasant’ demeanor—like masked Jokers offering up chemical waste Cosmopolitans. They always came off as oily Dr. Orin Scrivellos,  just waiting for their close-up.

I was dreading meeting my new sadist. OF COURSE I was!

Imagine my shock and amazement when this VERY normal, chill woman in scrubs walks in and introduces herself as my dentist, Dr. Magee. Fer fuck's sake, my blood pressure instantly dropped back down into the normal/groovy range and the vice-tight tension in my shoulder and chest muscles released. Dr. Magee did NOT disappoint—she was awesome!

I’m going back to the office on Monday to meet a periodontist. He’ll be doing the actual extractions. I guess, unsurprisingly and true to my usual form, I have complications. They've kicked me up to the superhero level of dental surgeons. Way to go me?

Turns out, I also have a third tooth that may need to come out but they’ll deal with the two problem suckers first so’s I can have my brain surgery next month. Wheeee! The good dentist also tells me they can put in the implants six months after extraction. It'll be fab to have a full set of ivories again and I’ll be happy as all hell when teeth and brain are done (for now anyway).

Never a dull moment in this flawed (yet wicked attractive) skin suit, eh?

 Ooo, ooo, there was a single down note—only one of three elevators was working and there were tons of unmasked persons waiting. I'm NOT risking a ride in a jam-packed car with possible COVID carriers before two big surgeries. Nope. What to do though? I hoofed it up to the fourth floor. It sucked rotted frog balls but was good exercise I suppose.