This month, I am writing with the Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life group sharing bit and pieces of my life and sometimes, memories triggered by others. Today, I am sharing a memory that would be best left behind, but thanks to Diane who blogs at Newtreemom this was dredged out of the file of "bad memories."
In college, thanks to dental incompetence, I lost most of my molars planning to eventually get bridges, when I had time and money. A decade of so later, my competent dentist suggested it was time. So I began the expensive, painstaking process of getting bridges that cost just a wee bit less than the original George Washington spanning the Hudson.
Late one night while eating a Fig Newton, a 3-tooth, a temporary bridge decided to go for an adventure through my digestive system resulting in some discomfort, multiple scans, multiple plans for extrication, and a week of uncertainty about its final resting place. All "worked out" well!
Many years later, I was setting up for a meeting at school when my growling stomach led me to pop a piece of cheddar into my mouth where a replacement, temporary bridge had been residing. For the second time in one lifetime, I swallowed my bridge. This time, it seemed to be lodged in my esophagus and it hurt! After a visit to the dentist (foolish), I headed to the ER where I tried to explain my story again and again to people who found it incredulous. After hours in the ER, an ENT consult and a cat-scan, the pesky plaster piece appeared to head off to the dark recesses of my gastrointestinal tract and to this day, its final resting place remains unknown.
In time, I gave up on bridges, took out a car loan and migrated to dental implants.
1 comment:
Oh no-- you have worse teeth stories than I have! Much worse! At least you're funny about it! The specific cookie and cheese choices added voice!
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