I think my Mommy Brain has hit a new low.
Earlier this week I had a blank spot in my memory. Not because of any substance abuse, I promise. Just because of parenting. Has this ever happened to you?
I was on the phone with my dentist, who I love beyond all patient-dentist loves, and she put me on hold to get me an appointment with a specialist on account of my gums looking like they’re ninety-five years old. I have granny gums.
I remember her saying she was going to put me on hold…then…nothing. No idea. Not sure if she got me the appointment. Not sure if I was trying to get my kids to be quiet and hmm-mmmed at her. Blank. Do you ever scare yourself with your full extent of mommy brainedness?!?
I wondered in the back of my head all week whatever happened to the whole dentist thing, and then yesterday I found out when the specialist called and asked where I was. I was late for an appointment I didn’t know I had, so I raced over and they let me in. I mean, where’s my brain? This third child has apparently severed the remaining neurons and dendrites that I had still working for me.
Sitting in the specialist’s special chair I had the special sensation of panic as he explained to me that I have bone loss and gum loss in addition to brain loss. And the teeth in the back left of my mouth are not happy.
I am OCD.
For realsies. Obviously this does not affect the cleanliness of my van:
But, among other things, I’m obsessed with the health of my teeth. While other people were having social lives in high school, I was home brushing my teeth. A lot.
He started explaining that I need a gum graft. He pulled out an iPad and I’ll never think of iPads the same way again. Picture after picture of disgusting gums and lack of gums.
I wanted to scream, “But I’m a flosser! I floss! I love flossing!” Under “hobbies,” I could list flossing. I should be getting an A in caring for my teeth, not stuck at the specialist finding out about my freakazoid gums.
When he said I have bone loss, I pictured the photo they showed us in health class of the guy with no jaw who chewed tobacco and the danger of chewing and smoking. That guy still gives me nightmares, and that was definitely going to be me because of all the gum and bone loss. I would be jawless, and I’ve never, ever smoked.
I wish I’d blanked out when he explained how they’d do the procedure and talked about tissue banks and collagen and cutting an envelope in my mouth. I like stationery…but I don’t think that’s the kind of envelope he meant.
I can’t even eat fruit anymore cuz of sensitivity to cold but I wondered if I could just eat on one side of my mouth forever.
After all the medical part where they talked about cutting and stitches and I flashed back to the wisdom teeth surgery when I was fifteen, I went to talk with the office person about the money part. When she showed me the dollars involved I choked, looked at her, and asked, “What if I just ignore this and don’t do anything about it?” She said, “You’re funny. Great humor.” No really, I kinda wasn’t kidding.
Lack of jawbone guy. That’s what’s in my future. I’m sure of it.
I look at all money as plane tickets to Uganda and this was a lot of plane tickets.
When I told Alex that we have to spend a ton of money and I’d be drooly for a few days and only eat soft foods, he said we should probably just go ahead and get the Vitamix to help puree all my food. Reason 13,486 why he is awesome sauce. And my kids will have no idea I’m hiding spinach in everything. Everyone wins.
So, I can’t seem to do anything about the brain loss, but maybe I won’t end up jawless after all. And I’ll have a whole day to myself without the kids. I should’ve told Alex I’d need a week.
Anybody else have an unfortunate dental experience? Are you like me, a brushing, flossing, hapless victim of fate and genetics?
Anybody else have a blank spot in their Mommy Brain? Maybe that’s the scariest part of this whole story…
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image from healthextremist.com
