tooth-scrapin' update

I went back to see that sweet young boy scout who has been getting in his required hours of torture for his dental hygiene merit badge, in my mouth. Seriously, he is the nicest kid (who's probably in his early thirties) and he is so kind--just before he starts hurting me.

Today's visit was a five-minute appearance. You will be happy to know that the roof of my mouth (site of the donor graft) is healing nicely, keep up the good work.

However, when he carefully pulled my lower lip away from my front teeth, I immediately heard him let out a long slow breath, and I thought that even through his paper mask, I could see him mouthing the words, "oh, my." With his fingers still in my mouth, I said, "Not what you usually see one week after surgery?" And he answered, "No, not usually." Not exactly what I hoped to hear.

He went on to tell me that he had hoped that all of the stitching he'd done in my mouth would still be in place, but unfortunately it looked like some of the stitches had come out prematurely, but not to worry, because it looked good. And I might have believed that looking good comment, except for the deepening worry lines in his young, baby-soft forehead skin.

He gave me this really cool red, really soft toothbrush for me to use in the tender areas. In two weeks, I go back for a 30-minute visit, during which, he hopes to accomplish two things. The first is to clip that little muscle that divides the front of my mouth and attaches my lip to my gums. He said that clipping would be easy. (What do I do with that comment? Easy like clipping my toenails? Easy like eating pie? Easy like delivering 10 lb twins?) The second procedure involves "filleting" my gums to reposition the grafts. Before filleting my gums and the new graft so he can insert the graft in between layers of gum tissue, he will, of course, need to prepare my teeth (and by prepare, I mean, scrub, rough up, and in general, bring back the achy pain) so that the graft and the gum tissue will grow into one happy little family with its adopted child, the scraped, once again achy, tooth and its root.

I'm telling you, I can hardly wait--for Christmas, because my next appointment is the day before Thanksgiving and did I mention that Jack's mom and brother and some of the kids will be over for my usual Thanksgiving production including the freshly made rolls and of course, pie.

Another stop at the Lortab Station. Seriously, about the best I can hope for is the novacain for an hour and that funny me on the gas. I crack me up.