While I completely understand that today’s title is a common idiom, I still feel like I am being shoved by the universe today into my intentions for the year of taking good care of myself.
I grew up poor and experienced the world of AFDC (aid for families with dependent children), aka, welfare. During that time, dental care was not really a priority. I inherited many of my father’s traits. Unfortunately, I inherited my mother’s genes when it comes to matters of the mouth. Coupled with childhood poverty and a huge fear of dentists, with additional spans of years without dental insurance, and an industry that not only is inadequate when it comes to addressing the financial burdens of dental health but also an industry that is classist — let’s pull it since you’re poor. I kid you not. I have heard that refrain more than once.
And, you get to be nearly 40, with a whole lot of expensive options, a mouthful of pain that vicodin can’t even touch, and an immense amount of shame and questions about desirability, identity and more.
Most people would not think any part of one’s identity would be wrapped up in the state of one’s mouth, and even the options that might accompany. You see, if I had $20,000, I could have a whole new mouth with implants to boot. If I go the cheap route, I get dentures and a mindfrak of whether that would mean I would still be desirable. And, you have nights like I have had over the weekend that result in a mouth full of pain worse than any kind of pain that I have experienced, except perhaps for a broken heart.
i just feel like crying. and, to beat it all, i could have probably saved a lot of my teeth at some point if i had enough money and if the places i went to had listened to me about clearing the cavities first.
i have no idea how to make this decision. i just can’t stand this pain.
