There’s wisdom on both sides. In a few months there will be wisdom on neither side.
On December 13, well into my thirties, I will be losing the four emblems of wisdom that fought their way out of my gums more than ten years ago.
On the other hand, sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and cut them out of your life.
They stopped being considerate of their neighbors, started holding on to little irritants like kale from yesterday’s dinner that stuck beneath the surface and grated on others’ nerves.
Getting to the root of the problem is the real issue.
Ignoring the situation only made it worse. Patching up the cavities that appeared was a temporary solution, and the rot kept coming back, costing more time and effort to remove.
But it’s all face-numbingly stupid.
You’re just trying to eat, drink, and live—why can’t they let you be happy looking at pictures of kittens and babies? Why keep reminding you about (mostly distant) pain?
That was the last straw. Please stop sucking.
Now, in addition to surgery, you have to reverse decades-old thinking about how to heal and what to avoid. Pour salt water on the wounds but don’t spit? Come on.
Does dentistry ever remind you of politics?
No? Just me. Okay. Don’t mind me.
I’ll just be over here with my swollen face, not talking, through the holidays.