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Wednesday, July 17, 2013

My first appliance

Most people would equate an appliance with something like a stove, oven, or even a toaster or blender but somewhere the lines got blurred and now the word appliance has a new association.  Specifically with one's mouth.

Here, I'll start at the beginning:

Many, many, many years ago I was in the military.  Active duty U.S. Army stationed in Darmstadt, Germany.  What an incredible country in both beauty and culture and one day I seriously hope to return with my girls so they can experience the wonders of another world.

Anyhow, I was a soldier in the signal communications field and my duties were mainly carried out in the middle of some lost in the woods location where it would easily take a convoy three hours to make the trek back to the nearest location where several of us could acquire our supplies and take our once a week shower.  Boy, oh boy did we treasure those trips and those showers even more.  Nothing like sleeping in a small tent with three or four other people, all of us smelling like wet dog and gym socks.  Ick.  Ick.  Ick.

It was January 1992 and we were super excited.  Not because we were stuck in the woods for the last 30+ days.  No, we were excited because we were packing up to go back to base.  No more mud.  No more mosquitoes.  No more freezing SIN vans.  No more port-a-potties.

The super excited came when we were informed if we packed quickly enough that we might just make it back in time to see the opening kick-off of the Super Bowl.  Now for anyone whose ever spent a day with military personnel you know how we love our sports, and yes, even though I am female I too love my sports.  Football to be precise.  Grew up watching it with my father and still watch it to this day - only now I watch it with hubs.  One of a few things we like to do together.

We did make it back to base in time and the game was on.  Beers flowed.  Cheers erupted.  And as is to be expected, boys fought.  The unfortunate details of one particular fight left me in the hall spitting up teeth and gushing blood.

Its kind of funny how the details of an event that happened 20+ years ago can still be recalled with such vivid accuracy while most things that happened last week I couldn't even tell you what happened or give you much more than a broad overview of the event.  That said, I remember clearly most of the details of that day.

The room I was in was across the hall from my own.  The guys who lived in that room had a nice big TV and there was a small crowd of us enjoying the game.  The guys had taken their two man room and turned it into a small apartment with beds on either side of the door blocked by wall-lockers and curtains to ensure both had enough privacy to sleep, wake, dress, and even entertain a female.  Only reason I know is because one of those guys was my at-the-time boyfriend.  The guys had turned the entire back of the room into a living are so-to-speak, with two sofas facing the window wall and two more facing each other.  Kind of like a box.  Simple enough design.  To get to the TV simply walk from the door, past both "rooms", past the flanking sofas and mini-fridge, and have a seat.  The TV would have been easily viewed from the open door, which the guys often did when too many people wanted to join in the on the fun.

That particular evening I am sitting on the sofa to the right facing the window wall which was pushed up to the side of a wall locker and sat at a 90degree angle to the sofa sitting on the side of the wall.  My back would have been to the door.  The lights are out - the only lights we see are the TV and the hall lights (which never got turned off).  I'm happily consuming my beer and watching the game.  Now remember when I said how easy it was to remember the details of that night?  Well, would you believe I still cannot tell you who was playing in the Super Bowl that year?  Odd.

At any rate, the cheers were plenty until one guy, not sure who because the lights were off, decided to "pick a fight" with another guy and it turned physical.  Someone thought it was a smart idea and tossed a Hefeweizen beer bottle at one of the other guys, and from what I am told it bounced off another guys shoulder and landed squarely in my face.  I don't know that for sure as I was hunkered down in the corner, trapped, my escape route blocked by the two fighting.  Unable to go anywhere I simply tried to disappear into the corner of the sofa and wall-locker.  Apparently I need to work on my Ninja skills because it still got hit.  And hard.

The only thing I remember after fists started flying was trying to figure out how I went from drinking beer to chewing this crunchy stuff and wondering why my mouth suddenly felt so warm.  The answer came when the lights suddenly came on and one guy, one not involved in the fight, but caught on the sofa to my right just like me suddenly exclaims "Oh my god, she's been hit."  And immediately everything got very real and very painful.  Everyone stopped and looked directly at me in disbelief.  Wasn't hard to figure out who "she" was since I was the only female in the room at the time.  Like I said, I like football.

I remember one guy tried to see what happened and I shoved passed him and made a bee-line for the door. Of course I didn't make it far when my knees buckled and I dropped just shy of my escape into the hall.  He helped me into the hall and sat me up.  Out of nowhere came clothes, paper towels soaked in water, towels, and more guys than one girl should ever feel comfortable being surround by.  But these guys were my buddies; my friends; my co-workers.  I spent days; weeks at a time in the woods bunking in a small tent with them.  These guys were my saviors.  And save me they tried.

The one thing that stuck me as odd that night was one guys insistent apologies and expressions of absolute horror.  It wasn't until later I would find out that this one guy, one of my best buds, was the one who threw the bottle.  Bad boy.  Bad boy indeed.  But I could harbor no ill will towards him because it was strictly an accident.  The bottle wasn't meant for me but for some reason it was seriously attracted to my teeth, which it kept embedded in the bottom.  When I was shown the bottle later I was shocked to see just how tough our teeth are.  Who would have thought that teeth could penetrate blown glass?  But there they were; at least two fully dug in teeth and the remnants of the remaining others.  Six teeth in all got damaged.  Part of my jaw bone had to be removed when the Dr's discovered it was shattered.  And the 20 year battle ensured.

One tooth I was told, I would lose within five years because there was no jaw bone to support it any longer. For the first year I could eat little more than soups, jello, and other liquid items.  My duties were limited to indoor only and there were times I had to be excused from formations because I simply could not stand to be outside.  Any air touching the damaged area felt like someone jack-knifing my face with scissors. To say it was painful was putting it mildly.

I was the only U.S. Army soldier who had dental appointments every day.  Other soldiers wouldn't be able to get an appointment for months but I had one or two every day of every week I was stationed in Germany.  The dental repairs and maintenance didn't stop once I left Germany either.  Once I got stateside in GA I was right back in the chair.  It was then that I finally started getting the caps I needed.  Six of them to be exact.  The bridge I was fitted for in Germany gave way to individual teeth once again.  But the battle to save my mouth raged on.

Before the accident I had beautiful white, straight teeth.  No cavities.  A year later and I was missing six teeth and had way more cavities than one cares to admit.  That happens when you aren't able to brush for nearly six months.  It took me a year before I could bite a slice of soft white bread and now winch in agony.  Two years would go by before I was able to eat things that required the front teeth to rip or tear apart.  Much too much pain but through it all I was determined to keep what remaining teeth I did have.

Two decades have past since that night.  I still remember the pain I felt then.  I remember looking in the mirror the first time and seeing gaping holes where teeth used to reside.  I remember each and every one of those damn silvery-gray cavity patches.  Way too many dentist, and way too many procedures later and I finally find a dentist who doesn't preach to be about the importance of flossing.  Easy to do when you have a mouth full of teeth that don't look like mine but when you've gone through all I did, just the imaginary feeling of what floss running across your gum line feels like is painful.  Not to mention, getting the floss between my teeth, which were never really done right thanks to too many military dentist jamming their fists in my mouth for such a short period of time.  That's one thing I really hated about the military.  You were likely to never see the same Dr or Dentist more than twice.  No consistency.

So now I have a wonderful dentist who I adore.  In the past year of going to her not once has she or any member of her staff ever pushed the flossing issue.  And when the brought it up, and I explained how flossing was not something I could do because of pain, instead of pushing the issue they found me an alternative.  The water-pic.  And let me tell you OMG I love this thing.

In the 20 years since the accident I have suffered an endless array of gum diseases and cavities.  Cavities are fixable but gum disease is harder to manage and when you can't care for you mouth like normal then it gets harder to manage.  Thankfully, my Dentist's staff recognized this and instead of pushing me to do something I hated they recommended something different.  And it worked !!!!  In less than a year I went from 5's and 6's in gum health to 1's and 2's, with one or two 4.  You know what those numbers are don't' you?  The numbers they spout out when they check the depth of the pockets between your gum line and your teeth.  The higher the number the worse the gum health is.  Anything above a 3 is a concern.  When you get into 5's and above you have gum disease.  Above 7 and you are looking at serious dental issues.

I was so excited to hear 1's and 2's coming out of my last cleaning that I really did shed a couple of tears.  Remember, I have been in a 20 year battle here so finally making some real progress was an historical moment for me.  But with all good things come the bad.  And this time, its bad.

Already I had chosen to have a molar extracted last year.  The past five years of ongoing pain was too much to bear and the idea that a root canal would only lead to another cap, which long term would lead to more dental work was just too much to take.  So in exchange for spending another fortune on something that was probably not going to be saved I chose to have it removed.  So far I can't say I regret that decision.  My jaw no longer hurts.  I don't have pain in my mouth or ear and I no longer need a heating pad to subdue the pain enough to get to sleep.  The only downside is I find myself sucking my face into the empty pocket.  A mouth guard will fix that - going to have one made after today's procedure is healed.  I hope.

Now that you have the background to todays event's I can explain whats happening this morning.  Remember the tooth I was supposed to lose after 5 years?  Yep.  I kept it for almost 22 years.  Not bad.  But time has run its course and the repeated infections that lie inside that pocket created when the jaw bone was removed has caused long term damage.  When the original tooth got shattered off the ligement moved into the area where bone was supposed to re-grow.  Years of this invasion has caused bone loss and repeated infections.  The infection I have now is not longer treatable with antibiotics.  The tooth I have always hated - one the military dentist put a cap on that makes it look three times thicker than it should - is coming out today along with all of the infection.  That, and the one next to it - the one I was supposed to lose 15 years ago.  Repeatedly the cap comes off and now there is so little tooth left that it would either need a new post and cap or a permanent implant.  In preparing for the final permanent implant it just makes more sense to get it pulled now.

Today I get two of the six damaged teeth pulled.  A sad day as it means I lost the battle to save them.  But it was a battle well fought and I am slowly coming to terms with that loss.  At 44 years old I will be wearing an appliance.  Yeah, that's what they call a partial.  Appliance.  Now you know.  For now its a long-term temporary solution until we are able to see what the future holds for us.

From here who knows what happens.  If hub loses his job sooner than we are hoping we may be in a world of hurt, but if his investment of nine years comes through (crossing fingers it happens this week or next) we may finally have achieved financial freedom.  Freedom enough to afford two permanent implants and further correct the damage done 20 years ago.


On a side note:  About the guy who threw the bottle:

Sometimes I catch myself wondering where my best buddy is.  Where is the guy who threw that bottle and caused me 20 years of anguish?  Not because I am mad at him, but just because we wonder sometimes.  I wonder if he remembers me and the incident?  Does he wonder how I'm doing today?  I may never know and somehow that is sad.  But I'm okay with that too as I will always remember the man, that Brawny manly man, who came to see me in the hospital and got down on his knees, begging for forgiveness, crying like a baby.  That moment is the only reason I never pressed charges against Zotti.  I knew in my heart he didn't mean it.  I knew in my heart it was only an accident and we all know you cannot prevent all accidents.

No matter how many times my Commanders kept pushing for me to file charges, remembering Zotti in my hospital room was all I needed to get me through this.  Twenty years later and I still harbor no regrets.  I harbor no ill will towards him either.  I can think back on my days with the 32nd Signal BN in Darmstadt Germany; my friend Christopher Zotti, and I can remember all that is good; all the enjoyable and rememberable things about such a fantastic time in my life.  And as long as I can remember those times I can get through the painful dental issues that still await me.

In the end, I will be victorious.  I will have a full set of teeth again and I will be pain free.  And I will be a better person for it.

So wish me luck today.

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