My new Patagonia running shorts made it look like I had wet myself after my run on Saturday. I’d ended the run at a local grocery store to pick up a big jar of honey, which I took great care to grip tightly as I was glistening with sweat. Then, I looked down and realized my “faded magenta” shorts appeared less faded around the crotch.
Then I pondered whether the fact that it was “just” crotch sweat made it less embarrassing. The shorts had dried by the time I got home, and I figured everyone I passed on the way was too busy looking at their phones to check out my dewy no-no area. Upon entering my suite, I hastily set the jar of honey on the kitchen counter. The glass jar tipped over and rolled off the counter.
And… did not break. Not every mishap has to end in disaster.
That night, I fixed the tail fin on my whale shark pencil case. Here’s the before picture:
Then, I kept going until it was completed. Alexa, who gave me the kit for my birthday last year, was the first person to see it in its final form. She asked me what I planned on putting in it. I mean, it’s a pencil case, but I already have a transparent case for my pencils.
How about… another shark?
I just realized that I never shared my penultimate sewing project: the oven mitt. The first version didn’t turn out as planned. It was too small for an oven mitt, and something weird happened around the thumb web:
I disassembled it to reuse the insulated batting for the second version, which turned out much nicer.
As I mentioned in my previous post, I began sewing a new lampshade for the “poop light.” However, like almost everything I’ve made, it turned out to be more than a one-day task. Thankfully, Daniel’s 5-minute shop towel lampshade is still holding up.
So, I didn’t want to dampen the celebration of finally having my mouth fixed after 22 long months by expressing any negativity about my new teeth. However, since I’ve documented my dental journey over nearly two years (one can even sort these posts using the “dental implants” tag), it needs a proper conclusion.
What I have in my mouth is essentially a super tooth anchored by two dental implants.
For the rest of my life, I’ll need to buy super floss for my super tooth. There are no gaps between these three teeth, but there is an invisible space between the gum and the top of the middle tooth. Every night, I have to thread the super floss through a tiny hole between two of the simulated incisors and drag the spongy part of the floss over the floating tooth, called a pontic. It feels strange, but I know I’ll get used to it.
The other strange sensation is the suction I can form against the super tooth with the tip of my tongue. There’s no need for me to do this, yet it’s comparable to tonguing a cut in your mouth: it’s hard to resist.
With proper care, the bridge should last 20+ years. However, if any damage occurs, I’ll have to pay out of pocket to fix it.
A summary of my post-accident dental work:
-removal of traumatic fibroma from my lower lip within one week of the accident.
-three lower chipped teeth were fixed with composite resin, and another was fixed with a crown
-removal of 2nd tooth that had slipped out of its socket once the fracture in my maxilla had healed
-bone graft to repair the broken alveolar process
-installation of two implants
-removal of 3rd tooth upon discovering that it’d also been impacted badly enough
-installation of the third implant
-redo of the middle implant, and an additional bone graft
-middle implant fails and has to come out
-bridge
Cost? About $25,000 (covered by insurance) and a newfound fear of the dentist.
I can’t say any of this was the dentist’s fault: the onset of perimenopause was detrimental to my body’s ability to regenerate new bone, and the implant that had failed was where I’d cracked my maxilla/damaged the alveolar process.
My smile looks amazing now, but holy shit, the entire process sucked so much.
And that’s my story. It’s flossing time!
