Tooth Fairy Tale

I guess this week is full of shockers. I woke up quite early to do some office work and then headed to a morning appointment with my dentist. It seems my diligent thrice-daily oral care routine (going on decades) only has a minor positive impact. The difference between a 3-month and a 6-month check-up was inflamed gums and more extensive cleaning. But the shocker was that after my full mouth X-ray, I was told that I had 40% bone loss. My previous dentists mentioned gum recession from overbrushing (about an 8-month period in the 2000s), genetics (thin gums), and teeth-grinding (bruxism). I even had gum surgery but no one mentioned other problems. Moreover, past prevention strategies were either suggested quite late (wearing a mouth guard) or initiated by me (going first to a 4-month then 3-month cleaning schedule). Once again, I felt that dentistry is filled with either incompetence (undiagnosed causes) or greed ("we won't offer solutions unless we think you can pay"). In any case, the grim prediction was probably another 20% loss in the next 10 years.

I didn't have a chance to absorb the news because I was back at my rental for online meetings that lasted past lunchtime. I rushed over to 9 mile for some tender and delicious jerk chicken ($13.99). There was no slaw with my order; 2 cucumber slices as the veggie side was almost insulting. I then had a private chat with another long-timer from work. It turns out management did talk to the whole company about the buy-out on Monday: seems like everyone were getting their options. I'm glad for most people except the "senior" Negative Ned who is leaving at the end of May after barely a year with us. That's a nice bonus for doing little except complaining, sabotaging meetings, and implying that everyone else were subpar.

Finally, the day was done. I enjoyed my stroll in the sunshine along a vibrant Bloor St and then spent time sitting at Christie Pits Park. Though it was a pleasant afternoon, my mind kept returning to my dental predicament and prognosis. I soon realized that, for the 20-somethings there, I had become the forlorn elderly figure staring vacantly at nothing from my own younger days. Honestly though, they probably didn't even noticed.