Saturday, September 26, 2009


Wow. I just realized I haven't written anything in a week, which isn't like me. Except it is, because I'm the one forgetting to write. I've actually had quite a few blog ideas this week that I keep thinking I should write about. Eh. They'll keep. Right now, I just want to share a gross story.

So this morning I went to the dentist. I was fully prepared for the run of the mill, 6 month cleaning experience but it was to be so much more. Let me start with the back story. Growing up, I had horribly crooked teeth. Jewel-crooked, maybe worse. I wasn't able to get braces until my early twenties. Prior to the orthodontics, I had to get my wisdom teeth removed. All eight of them. Two behind each back molar. Apparently, this is freakishly rare, though I didn't know that at the time. Their presences probably contributed greatly to the crowding. to me getting my braces off. They cemented a top and bottom retainer in behind each row of teeth. I was supposed to have it in for two years. It's been close to ten. I won't let them take them out. I know my teeth. My teeth are from Kentucky. My teeth are from holler. My teeth can play the banjo. THE RETAINER STAYS.

So today, they told me my teeth looked good, only how often do I floss between my front teeth, in front of the retainer? Floss there, I asked? I didn't think I could.But I floss everywhere else. That's good, right? This set off a flurry of activity in the office and several hygienists came over and then the dentist had to come confer. It seems that by not flossing between those teeth, my gum tissue had started to GROW OVER the metal wiring of the retainer in the back.

Now, I am not a wuss. I have a pretty high pain threshold and suffer zero dental anxieties. I can take a shot in the gums like a champ. But then the dentist used a special device to thread floss through my two front teeth (right at the point where they join the gum)and I YELPED. I actually got halfway up out of the chair and clamped my hand down on the dentist's wrist, so bad was the pain. They were pushing through the gum tissue, tearing it away from the metal.They basically busted my mouth hymen. I went home and slept for five hours.

There are two morals to this story:

1. Floss
2. Never schedule a dental appointment on a Saturday. It will ruin your Saturday. Schedule it on a weekday and make it your job's problem.


  1. Dear God. Mouth hymen. This is an amazing story.

    In other news, your blog has somehow ascended to the #1 spot in my BLOG LIST. I don't know how or why you switched places with Doug, but I suspect the phrase 'mouth hymen' figures prominently in Blogger's ordering algorithm.

  2. Your story left me terribly uncomfortable, yet terrifically entertained. Ditto, BG. Mouth Hymen, Hokie that... two-word phrases (or couplings?) are your meat and taters, Sam.