By JO ABI
“It’s okay to want the best for yourself.” These words were spoken to me by my dentist shortly after he explained that to fix my teeth it would cost me around $6000.
A bit of fun oral history…
When I was seven I was with my mum and my sisters in a shoe store. You know the large, carpeted steps in most shoe stores where kids sit down for fittings? I was waiting for my turn, running around like a little lunatic when I tripped, fell forward and hit my front teeth on the corner of a carpeted step. My front, right, adult tooth came out – root and all. Blood spurted everywhere. My eight-year-old sister took one look at the pool of blood in my hands and fainted.
My mum retrieved the tooth, wrapped it in a wad of dry tissues and wedged another wad in my mouth to try and stem the bleeding in the giant hole. We drove to our regular dentist who took one look at my mouth and sent us to the dental hospital.
“You should have shoved it back in,” the horrible receptionist lectured us, obviously not moved by my hysterical crying and the alarming amount of blood now covering my clothes.
The dentist did just that and it freaking hurt…but it had been about two hours since the tooth had been rudely shoved out of my mouth and despite the fact it thankfully stayed in my mouth and fused with my gum, it died a few weeks later. RIP.
Enter my black tooth years as it slowly became darker and darker…hell for a girl on the cusp of adolescence and ruthlessly teased by her perfectly-toothed-“friends’.
I have NEVER had good teeth. I’ve been haunted by this incident my entire life and now here I am, almost thirty years later, still paying for the sin of not being able to sit still.