Fangs a lot, Dr. Greg

This morning I woke up and my left hip is absolutely killing me. I have worked out almost every day going on 4 weeks now - nothing too horrific but last night I jogged about two miles on the treadmill, did some chores around the house, and then went to sleep. This morning, my left hip/upper thigh feels like someone is sticking a hot poker in it. Owee!

So I hobbled around the office today, listening diligently to everyone's Easter family dysfunction nightmares, and waiting for my dentist appointment. This was my first appointment in almost three years - my old dentist retired, the guy that bought his practice sucked, and I hadn't found anyone else to go to. So one of Joey's fellow Rotarians Dr. Greg is a dentist, and after meeting him over the holidays I thought he would be a good fit for our family so I made appointments for all of us to go. Monkey Man and Joey went last week - MM came out with a blue ribbon, Joey has some fillings that need replacing and perhaps one cavity that needs filling. I scolded him a bit and gave him a hard time about not taking care of his teeth.

So today was the long-awaited appointment. I went in cocky. I was cracking jokes, I got the impressions made for the teeth whitening system that I won in a charity auction a few months ago without gagging and barfing all over, I was the model of excellent patient behavior. What, me worry? Bah, I have teeth that go beyond perfection.

Until today. Guess what?

Eight cavities. Eight. Cavities. EIGHT FUCKING CAVITIES.

To say that I am traumatized is an understatement. Apparently, the three sets of braces that I had from the ages of 11 to 17 (I had a horrid overbite) have left deep grooves in my teeth that made them more susceptible to cavities. And you know, now that I think about it, the last two years that I went to my old dentist his hygienist didn't x-ray me even once. So who knows how long these suckers have been percolating in my mouth.

By the time I left the dentist's office I was in tears. It will take two appointments, with three teeth on one side being done in July and the other four teeth on the other side being done in August. I guess I should count myself lucky that two of the cavities were in the same freaking tooth. Yippee skippee. Not to mention that between the deductible and what dental insurance doesn't pay, it will be almost $400 to have my mouth patched back together. The office staff huddled around me, giving me hugs and telling me that it really won't be that bad and they will take good care of me.

I guess I shouldn't complain. Hell, Joey's cousin Shawn has horrible teeth and at the age of 28 he is getting all of them removed slowly and will eventually have full dentures. My brothers and sister have all had extensive dental work, especially my brother Paul who literally breaks into hives just looking at a toothbrush. Luckily for me, they caught these very early so it will be very easy to do the restorative work on them. It could be so much worse.

But that doesn't make me feel any better. I suffered with braces for years, had the indignity of being the only kid in the county elementary school with not only braces, but the dreaded headgear. Three sets of braces, one round of headgear, three rounds of retainers. A zillion trips to Dr. Kopsik's office that was 45 minutes away to have my headgear dislodged from my jaw when Chris Greame punched me in the mouth on a weekly basis. And then 20 years of dental perfection.

And the worst part? I don't want my mom to find out. Yes, I'm 37 and it is totally stupid, but I know she will be pissed at me. Pissed that I didn't go to the dentist for almost three years. Pissed that I allowed myself to fall prey to the cavities of mere mortals. Pissed that I didn't take care of myself.

However, I don't think the wrath of my mom could hold a candle to how much I have beaten myself up since 4:45 this afternoon. Seriously.

So after hobbling around the house tonight and whining incessantly about my leg and my teeth, I was tucking Monkey Man into bed and he said, "Mommy, my back hurts. My leg hurts. And I think I'm falling apart."

No, sorry son, only one of us at the time. Now excuse me while I go eat a cupcake and then go to bed without brushing. You could say I'm a little in denial.