Our Bodies Try to Murder Us

Over the weekend a major revolt occurred in my body. Specifically in my mouth as half of my teeth simply decided that they no longer wished to be part of the whole, chewing and smiling thing. Instead they wanted to cause me pain. Immobilizing pain to which I was regulated to my couch yesterday. My teeth throbbed and pulsed with each heartbeat and there was no relief. I brush, I floss, I see the dentist, and yet genetics still wins out and my teeth will win their painful revolution.

I’m on so much Ibuprofen that I can barely feel a thing. My head is cloudy and I’m sleepy. I’m hungry because I can’t chew. I haven’t had anything but mashed potatoes yesterday afternoon. It’s hell. But I do have an emergency dentist appointment set for tomorrow morning so hopefully I can regain some mouth related dignity. I’m sure there will be drilling and blood and stern looks from my dentist. But I don’t seem to have any choice in the matter. Through the magic of genetics, my whole family, mother’s side and father’s side all have cursed teeth. I’m lucky I don’t have a tooth growing through my damn cheek.

I’m sure the Whiskey doesn’t help. I think I’ll have to quit whiskey. Saddest of all though is I’ll probably have to quit drinking Coca-Cola. A drink I’ve loved since my first sip. I drink way too much of it on a daily basis and I’m sure its sugary hell completely contributed to the rapid decline of the state of my teeth. I do love it so. 

Yesterday was probably the first day is years that I didn’t have a Coca-Cola. It wasn’t all that hard to not have one considering the immense pain I was constantly in. Right now in fact I’m having a black coffee to avoid any possibility of sugar. It’s terrible. I do like my sugar. It is odd because I don’t eat any sugary snacks, save the occasional chocolate chip cookie, or even more rarely, cheesecake. I don’t eat candy bars or suck on candy snacks. So I always found my rapid tooth decay rather baffling.

I’m in my cubicle, counting the hours until I’m in that dentist’s chair, looking for the sweet relief a dentist can provide. It would happen right before the eating-est holiday of the year too. I’ll be lucky if I have the tooth capacity to have some corn and cranberries. I might end up with a turkey smoothie or perhaps some stuffing soup.

I think it’s pretty clear that my body is trying to kill me. I’ve got bad teeth, gout, broken toes and fingers, cysts, bad eye sight, and chronic bronchitis. I’m pretty surprised I don’t have diabetes or jaundice. I’m Frankenstein’s Monster without the having to have died and be reassembled. I’m a mess. 

Luckily though, it seems the majority of my ailments are fixable. Or at least fixable enough that I can cease the constant throbbing pain in my mouth. Time for more pills.