About a week ago, I was stood in the kitchen with my husband, discussing the fact that I broke a molar in half while eating a chicken nugget.  I’d said that every person in my family has had dentures by the time they were 50, and I don’t expect to be the exception.  Between depression and genetics, my teeth are a fucking mess.  My wisdom teeth never came in, because they grow straight forward.  My bottom teeth all just crowded and got out the way, but my top?  My top teeth were the unstoppable force’s immovable object.  After the 9th, when I finally get this last one pulled, I will have exactly one top molar left, and it will be the one in the very far back.  Which is also acting like it wants to break in half any minute now as well.

But yeah.  While watching the Loki finale at midnight, chomping on some McDonald’s one of my last remaining molars broke in half.  It didn’t hurt, but I could tell it was a Problem.  So I went online, scheduled an appointment, and went in today for that appointment.  The funniest part though is the dentist came in to look at everything, and we had a little chat before he got started, about my primary reason for coming in.  I told him I have a very oddly-broken tooth in a way I’ve never experienced before, and immediately he suggested a root canal.  I said, nah.  I want it pulled.  There’s no saving this thing.  Okay, he’ll take a look, and it is ultimately my decision, but it might be save-able.  So he looks in there, and immediately goes, “Oh no, that’s coming out.”  It’s broken off from the root somehow, and only is not sheared clean off because spite?  idk he said he’s never seen that before either, but my teeth are mega fucked.

But apparently it may have broken twice, and I just didn’t notice the first time because my teeth are so fucked I can’t even feel what’s going on back there.  So now it’s like, super hella infected, which means tomorrow I get to go in for a cleaning, and antibiotics and all that.  By the time that gets straightened out, I’ve got my appointment to get it yanked.  Then there’s a few other things they want to go ahead and get in there to do, and then when everything is healed and settled, I’m getting brand new molars.

And of course, he starts talking about needing to get all this done and I’m like, bro I’m self pay.  He was suggesting implants, but I can’t afford that shit.  If I had insurance I wouldn’t be in this poor of a state to begin with.  But he made all of his recommendations, and honestly yes I would like to get these all done.  So I go back to talk to the billing lady, and the first thing I asked was financing.  We sat down, talked a few things, and fucking got instantly approved.  But it’s all in the bag and paid for, and I just have to pay $50 a month for a while, and go live in a dentist’s chair.

I haven’t been able to chew on things properly in years, so this is a new and exciting chapter in my life.