So two days before my birthday, I had what I thought was going to be my last expensive trip to the dentist for awhile. Three fillings, a crown, a night guard (because in addition to the fact that my teeth seem intent on driving us into insolvency, I also grind my teeth at night with such force that my back teeth are cracking) (I swear on my monogram that I had excellent dental care for the first 33ish years of my life…apparently a three year break, DURING WHICH TIME I BRUSHED, WITH PASTE, EVERY SINGLE DAY, TWICE A DAY warrants this kind of penance?), and a cleaning. It was a long morning, but fortunately fairly painless. They turned on the telly, Niles Crane and I bonded for four hours, done. I did wave the white flag before they started cleaning my teeth, though, because I was over it. O-V-E-R it. Whatever, they brought me in the next week for that. Fab.
Tangentially related true story: When Justin Timberlake was singing about Bringing Sexyback? He was talking about a night guard. Seriously, try it. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. (end sarcasm)
So when I went back in for the cleaning, I mentioned that even though I had already had a ten day course of antibiotics, and it had been awhile since the crown and the fillings and the root canal, it was still hurting. A lot. They said, eh, give it a few more days.
During which time it grew worse.
(Good heavens, I just realized I’m talking about my teeth again. I promise, pig post will happen tomorrow. And maybe a bonus recipe next week because I know my dear friend M loves my food posts.)
(Aside for her-pulled pig on top of risotto? Delicious. But don’t sauce the pig you are putting on top of the risotto. That would be weird.)
Anyway, I have cried over food many, MANY times. The Thanksgiving Dinner in 1997 where we spent it in the hospital with a very much alive Daddy with a new heart. The Christmas Dinner in 1997 where we spent it at Mattito’s with a newly-sprung very much alive Daddy with a new heart (and a most excellent bottle of champers). Nearly any steak I’ve had here. The goat cheese salad I had in Bayeux in 2008. Pimento cheese with Miss Lenora Pope in October, 2005, reminiscing about my Papa Jack and Gamma, newly reunited in Heaven.
But I’ve never cried over cheap Chinese Hot and Sour Soup before, until last night. And y’all? That should NEVER happen. So into the dentist I went today.
And he found out that another one of my teeth is…ick…I can’t even type that word. A worse word than “inf…” Can’t type that one either. You get the idea. Let’s keep the blog peppy and perky (for today, at least).
So back to the special dentist and anesthesiologist I go. And here is the (entirely First World) catch. We leave kinda soon to go some place (Napa) for an extended period of time that is 50% about EATING. Good things. Multiple times per day. Over multiple days. (The other 50% is about the beverage that accompanies said eating. But the wine is served room temperature which so far doesn’t cause me to cry from pain.) And the last time I went to Napa, I had another dental issue that caused me serious pain whenever I ate or drank.
I. Want. ONE. TRIP. JUST. ONE. TRIP. To Napa. Where my teeth. Aren’t. Messed. Up.
(First world, entirely, people. I acknowledge this.)
So I politely tried to explain this to the Special Dentist people. Who cannot possibly see me until after we get home. Unless there is a cancellation.
Gentle Reader, would you please think good thoughts for an admittedly Very Terrible White People Problems miracle, there? I have a date with Thomas Keller and his fried chicken and I want to be at my best for him and his thighs.
And General Interwebs Searching For Opportunities For Tomfoolery, do not worry, you don’t know when we will be gone, there will be no sign of it here, and someone will be living at the ranch while we are gone. Plus we have Scout the Ranch Cat/Trained Killer and Cody, her flunkie.
Anyway, to wrap this up, this is what they give you when eating makes you cry:
And my question is, “What are the little red dots? Flavor crystals?” I think I’ll just swallow them whole, thanks.