Coming to Poligrips with the Situation
I've been pricing out the cost of "restoring" my smile
since losing a porcelain bridge in the front of my mouth
about 3 weeks ago
while eating out.
Of my 6 top front teeth
that leaves me two capped remainders.
My smile has been temporarily supported since 2019
with partial dentures
to hide my losses
(and shames)
while I do a couple things:
- Defeat my extreme anxiety around dental work
- Defeat a decades-old and bone infection that invaded my upper jaw
with ZERO help from a string of disinterested dentists
- Elevate and maintain a new kind of dental hygiene far above what I was ever taught to do
by ANYONE in my life, EVER.
- Save for permanent restorative dentistry I will need which is about equal to
the cost of a down payment for a house
"The time has come",
the Surgeon said,
"to talk of many things.
Of teeth! And tusks!
And fangs that hang!
Of damages and dings!
And how to pay for this onslaught,
and whether you'll ever sing!"
I've spent a lot of time working to better myself
while also
accepting myself as I am.
This is a lifelong dissonant feeling
that I've explicitly struggled with
for as long as I can remember.
The hopelessness of bailing water ALL THE TIME
just to stay afloat
while everyone else
seems to sail by
dry
and so easy.
[More Down Below!]
And working double-time at
not being mad at them
or at myself
for being born
into a desperately sinking ship.
Learning to be grateful and happy
with my one-and-only leaky boat
despite the roiling in my bilge about it
feeling so unfair
but knowing for sure -
That's Just Life.
Take it and lump it
or leave it.
I've been doing this since I started making memories.
Always half-dying
over SOMETHING.
But it started
long even before that.
Born in a body meant to die
I've survived somehow
(thanks, Modern Medical Science!)
but there are prices to pay to stay alive,
that I started accruing
earlier than most.
Maybe that's why I always got along with old people?
What did 8 year old me
and my 85 year old neighbor Mina
have in common to talk about?
Answer:
Rheumatoid Arthritis.
We could complain about the side-effects
of high-dose steroid treatments together!
Or what COPD feels like!
FINALLY!
Someone who UNDERSTANDS my daily life!
I've come to the point in my mouth
where I am agreeing to have good teeth pulled
to make way for pretty, permanent fake teeth
installed to stretch across my checkerboard smile
all in one-go.
And I am agreeing to pay
50% of my gross annual wages for it
(thanks, Dental Insurance)
Good thing
I've been saving,
eh?
Good thing
I have insurance now,
eh?
Good thing I've been bailing water for so long,
I can deftly
cry and cry and cry
while I do it,
eh?
Aye, aye!
My tears only add an occasional extra bucketload to a long day,
and the relief is real
to let my soul have it's wet say in the hard matters.
Anyways,
tomorrow is the **easy** day.
Only a couple thousand dollars,
and one big scar in my mouth
to heal up.
I'm taking two weeks off work
to just... heal and cry, essentially.
It's really a boon to have found an accounting error
not too long ago
that was shorting me paid vacation hours.
That error has been corrected,
just in time
for me to take this non-rollover paid time off
that expires in two weeks
(guilt-free!!)
to heal and cry
EVEN IF
I don't have two full weeks of healing + crying to do.
The **next** appointments
in a handful of weeks
will be a bigger surgery
where I will pay for them
to chip out the checkerboard
into one big hole
and I will learn to talk around
one new large denture.
And I will pay and I will pay and I will pay
(and heal and cry)
and then
IF ALL GOES WELL
sometime in a few months
the professionals will screw in
a brand-new scientifically-designed smile
right across the middle of my face.
I did something like this once before, actually.
About $15,000
in early-aughts money
was spent to cover my first front gap,
straighten my smile,
and remove the devastated abbeys
which had been poisoning my lower jaw,
and suppressing my immune system
for almost a decade by then.
I was only in my early 20s,
and they could cement in (and over) my holes,
rather than screw in replacements.
And here comes another projected $15,000, or so
out-of-pocket
with insurance kicking in the rest.
Sailor has never once balked or argued,
never blamed or resented me
somehow.
I don't know how.
I think he's magic.
Is this the time that I point out I'm STILL waiting for treatment
for a polyp that often blocks my right nostril?
It's only the 8th month it's been like this.
So... right now?
Physically, emotionally, mentally... I'm busy bailing
but
I am somehow still afloat.
Thanks, Body.
Thanks, Me.
Thanks, Sailor.
Thanks, Insurance.
Thanks, Paid Time Off.
Thanks, Dr. Collins.
since losing a porcelain bridge in the front of my mouth
about 3 weeks ago
while eating out.
Of my 6 top front teeth
that leaves me two capped remainders.
My smile has been temporarily supported since 2019
with partial dentures
to hide my losses
(and shames)
while I do a couple things:
- Defeat my extreme anxiety around dental work
- Defeat a decades-old and bone infection that invaded my upper jaw
with ZERO help from a string of disinterested dentists
- Elevate and maintain a new kind of dental hygiene far above what I was ever taught to do
by ANYONE in my life, EVER.
- Save for permanent restorative dentistry I will need which is about equal to
the cost of a down payment for a house
"The time has come",
the Surgeon said,
"to talk of many things.
Of teeth! And tusks!
And fangs that hang!
Of damages and dings!
And how to pay for this onslaught,
and whether you'll ever sing!"
I've spent a lot of time working to better myself
while also
accepting myself as I am.
This is a lifelong dissonant feeling
that I've explicitly struggled with
for as long as I can remember.
The hopelessness of bailing water ALL THE TIME
just to stay afloat
while everyone else
seems to sail by
dry
and so easy.
[More Down Below!]
And working double-time at
not being mad at them
or at myself
for being born
into a desperately sinking ship.
Learning to be grateful and happy
with my one-and-only leaky boat
despite the roiling in my bilge about it
feeling so unfair
but knowing for sure -
That's Just Life.
Take it and lump it
or leave it.
I've been doing this since I started making memories.
Always half-dying
over SOMETHING.
But it started
long even before that.
Born in a body meant to die
I've survived somehow
(thanks, Modern Medical Science!)
but there are prices to pay to stay alive,
that I started accruing
earlier than most.
Maybe that's why I always got along with old people?
What did 8 year old me
and my 85 year old neighbor Mina
have in common to talk about?
Answer:
Rheumatoid Arthritis.
We could complain about the side-effects
of high-dose steroid treatments together!
Or what COPD feels like!
FINALLY!
Someone who UNDERSTANDS my daily life!
I've come to the point in my mouth
where I am agreeing to have good teeth pulled
to make way for pretty, permanent fake teeth
installed to stretch across my checkerboard smile
all in one-go.
And I am agreeing to pay
50% of my gross annual wages for it
(thanks, Dental Insurance)
Good thing
I've been saving,
eh?
Good thing
I have insurance now,
eh?
Good thing I've been bailing water for so long,
I can deftly
cry and cry and cry
while I do it,
eh?
Aye, aye!
My tears only add an occasional extra bucketload to a long day,
and the relief is real
to let my soul have it's wet say in the hard matters.
Anyways,
tomorrow is the **easy** day.
Only a couple thousand dollars,
and one big scar in my mouth
to heal up.
I'm taking two weeks off work
to just... heal and cry, essentially.
It's really a boon to have found an accounting error
not too long ago
that was shorting me paid vacation hours.
That error has been corrected,
just in time
for me to take this non-rollover paid time off
that expires in two weeks
(guilt-free!!)
to heal and cry
EVEN IF
I don't have two full weeks of healing + crying to do.
The **next** appointments
in a handful of weeks
will be a bigger surgery
where I will pay for them
to chip out the checkerboard
into one big hole
and I will learn to talk around
one new large denture.
And I will pay and I will pay and I will pay
(and heal and cry)
and then
IF ALL GOES WELL
sometime in a few months
the professionals will screw in
a brand-new scientifically-designed smile
right across the middle of my face.
I did something like this once before, actually.
About $15,000
in early-aughts money
was spent to cover my first front gap,
straighten my smile,
and remove the devastated abbeys
which had been poisoning my lower jaw,
and suppressing my immune system
for almost a decade by then.
I was only in my early 20s,
and they could cement in (and over) my holes,
rather than screw in replacements.
And here comes another projected $15,000, or so
out-of-pocket
with insurance kicking in the rest.
Sailor has never once balked or argued,
never blamed or resented me
somehow.
I don't know how.
I think he's magic.
Is this the time that I point out I'm STILL waiting for treatment
for a polyp that often blocks my right nostril?
It's only the 8th month it's been like this.
So... right now?
Physically, emotionally, mentally... I'm busy bailing
but
I am somehow still afloat.
Thanks, Body.
Thanks, Me.
Thanks, Sailor.
Thanks, Insurance.
Thanks, Paid Time Off.
Thanks, Dr. Collins.