Sally Sells Seashells

I have a six-of-one-half-a-dozen-of-the-other type of a problem.  Do I look funny and talk normally, or talk funny but look normal?

Remember a couple of weeks ago when I had a tooth pulled?  I had an old root canal that failed and the tooth broke and blablabla – you don’t really want to hear the details – my tooth had to be pulled.  Extracted.  That sounds more severe.

I knew for over a year that the tooth needed to be extracted but the thought of the gap left in my mouth while I waited months for the healing/reconstruction process was traumatizing.  I cried in the dentist’s chair whenever she mentioned it. Before I even had the tooth pulled, I made an appointment for one week post-extraction to have impressions made of my mouth so I could have a “flapper” made.  It’s basically a retainer with a fake tooth in it to hold the place and fill the void where the tooth had been previously.  Knowing I had this appointment and this short-term solution made me feel less panicked, so I had the tooth pulled, I had the impression made, and I waited.  And two weeks later, still waiting on the flapper, I realized that the missing tooth wasn’t all that traumatizing after all.  I’m used to the feeling, I can eat without thinking about not chewing on the side of the missing tooth, and no one but me really knows that the tooth is gone.  I’m surprisingly OK with it.

Of course, then the dentist called to tell me that the flapper was in.  I picked it up yesterday afternoon and I absolutely can not stand it.  Not only does it feel awkward, it seems to stimulate salivation and I feel like I’m drooling constantly.  It makes me talk funny, and although I’m supposed to wear it while eating,  I can’t even drink coffee with it in, it just feels wrong.  I want to try to wear it because it looks nice and it will keep my teeth from crowding into the void while I wait for the healing process to take it’s sweet time, but OHMYGOD.  I wish I hadn’t ordered it.

The dentist told me to practice talking with the flapper in so I tried to repeat some tongue twisters on the way home in the car.  Now I can’t stop repeating in my head “I slit a sheet, a sheet I slit, upon a slitted sheet I sit” and “Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously.”

I think this flapper may go the way of my post-braces retainer and “accidentally” end up in the garbage can.  Oh regret, you’re no fun at all.

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