There’s not much about me that’s remarkable. I’m of average height, average intelligence, average abilities, and average attractiveness. The only thing about me that’s above average is my weight, the size of my tits and my astoundingly excellent dental health.
Yes, yes I know that sounds incredibly pathetic. Some people have greater gifts. They’re great speakers, or great motivators and leaders; or they have great physical prowess, they’re Olympic athletes or can put their feet behind their heads and scoot across the floor on their buttocks – but my one small claim to fame was that I hadn’t had a cavity in my entire life.
Whenever anyone spoke of their upcoming root canal or the bane of their semi-annual dental appointment that they were sure would end up involving a drill, I puffed up my chest and proudly proclaimed that I’d never had a cavity in my entire life. Never, not one. I had the teeth of an immortal. Sure they might not be gleaming white or even incredibly straight. But they were healthy and pure and I basked in the wonder of people’s faces and gasps of amazement when they realized the miracle that was my oral health.
But it all came crashing down on me last week at the dentist office. I HAVE A CAVITY. And if that was not enough of a blow, they said they were keeping a close eye on another tooth that looked like it was headed for the same fate. I was, and still am, devastated.
It’s not just a cavity to me. It’s another small detail of my body and my life that’s falling to shit. It’s another blow to my already bruised ego and sense of self worth. It’s not bad enough that I’m so exhausted and tired looking that I don’t recognize my own reflection. Not enough that my hair has been stripped of all it’s natural gleam and is peppered with grey, not enough that I can’t wear any of my pre-pregnancy wardrobe. NO! Fate/life/old age had to steal from me my one small claim to fame.
I suppose I’ll get over it eventually. I’ll fill up that hole in my soul just like they’ll fill in that gaping hole in my tooth. Except I’ll probably try to fill my emotional canyon with oreos and french silk pie instead of dental grade enamel. All that sugar might lead to more cavities though – damn!