They've taken my teeth from me.
I can't explain to you what a strange thing oral surgery is. If your mouth was like mine, it's almost like having an amputation. One moment I had solid useful teeth in the back of my mouth, then a blank bit of time gone from memory, and now they have disappeared. My tongue drops off the edge of my molars sharply.
Instead of teeth I feel wounds bound up with dissolvable thread. I carry these wounds with me everywhere. The slight pain and uncomfortable gapping, the stitches poking my cheek, my sore and bumpy jawline--they are always on my mind. They make me feel special.
"can I eat this Oreo?" I ask myself. "will that cracker dissolve quickly enough in saliva to produce something that will dribble down my throat before beginning to taste bad and without choking me?" These are things I never considered before.
The great thing is that I can eat things like tapioca pudding and homemade ice cream. This morning I had chopped spaghetti noodles with olive oil, cheddar cheese, and some leftover rosemary and basil from Mommy's garden. I am paranoid of getting pieces of noodle stuck in the cavities, spawning a bloodbath at worst and halitosis at best, but so far eating noodles has only produced pleasure as always.
The other thing I like about this experience is swishling warm salt water around in my mouth every hour or so. I like the rhythm and rhyme of this especial ritual. Not everyone gets to swishle warm ocean water in their mouths. It soothes my raw gums, makes them feel clean, makes me feel I've done my duty without having done much, and it divides my day.
I was born to be broken.
with wisdom gone, I am blissfully ignorant, like a cow.
gee whiz. i like your blog so far. i suppose i should've known that good writing runs in the family. good job, little lady.
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