Ew, me.

How can I make this better?

My eyes peering through a painted plaster cast of my teeth before I got crowns. The cast has been painted to resemble a infected, decaying mouth.

By better, I mean more disgusting.

I already have gingivitis, rotting teeth, bleeding gums, two gold teeth, and a canker sore. (I used to get them regularly as a kid. I never do anymore. I wonder why.) I looked online for inspiration as well, but couldn’t stomach the images of decomposing mouth for long. On my way home from the clinic this morning, I picked up some modeling material and brown paint (I realized how much paint I was wasting by mixing my own) so that I could create a long tongue flopping out of the jaws.

It already looks great, and I finally found a use for my old body jewelry. I’m excited to paint it. I may keep adding to this project until I complete a vile, decaying life-sized reproduction of myself.

My self-diagnosis was spot-on. The doctor confirmed that the lump on the back of my knee is a Baker’s cyst. I guess I can expect my medical degree in the mail in the next few weeks. This doctor was almost useless. I knew there was little chance the lump could be anything other than a cyst; I had questions such as, “Will this affect my job?” “Can I still do physical activities like cycling?” And, “Can it rupture?”

The answer to the last one was, “Yes, but it’s ok.”

And I thought, “Ok for whom? You or me?”

I didn’t want this visit to be all for nothing, so I explained that my knees have been crinkly since I was in my early twenties. Every time I’d seen a doctor about it, they treated it as it was a one-off issue. It’s got to be something if it’s existed for more than a decade. I asked for a referral to a specialist, and the doctor responded by scheduling me for an x-ray. My knee gets zapped on Wednesday.

Then, I’ll likely end up waitlisted for titanium knees. I would also accept the installation of oil ports. A syringe could attach to the port to plunge out any built-up fluid. I miss that short phase of my life where my skeleton was mainly cartilage, and new teeth would replace missing ones. In other words, my shark phase.

According to this flippant doctor, I may continue riding. I’ll have to take a picture and measure the lump before every ride to make sure it doesn’t get bigger, for I would not be ok with it rupturing. Right now, it looks a bit odd but not disgusting. I’ve seen photos of ruptured cysts, and it’s not for me.

Sarah was the only person to send me a photo of her carrots, thus revealing herself as MY ONE TRUE FRIEND!

Sarah’s dual carrots.

2 thoughts on “Ew, me.

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