The angry molar is gone. In its place is a stitched excavation bleeding into a wad of gauze. Before Dr. Loo yanked it out I ran my tongue over its pitted surface one last time and thanked it kindly for almost five decades of loyal service, but when he asked me if i wanted to keep it for a souvenir, i declined. It was a good long run but it’s over.
I could rant on about the scam that is the dental industry but I won’t. Well actually i will. It pisses me off that the only people who get all their dental bills paid for them are the ones who can easily afford to have their own teeth fixed. If you work for a corporation or institution you make a fat wage, plus get your teeth fixed and your glasses bought and a year off to tend to your babies. Self-employed people, or part-timers or wage slaves, have to foot their own bills and those bills are high. I’m not talking about cosmetic dentistry, I’m talking about the care we need to maintain our health and our livelihoods. It’s not easy getting a job, let alone a date, with no front teeth. But Canadian medicare covers none of it. Why? Who knows?
Am I just a little bitter about that? Hell yeah. I know it’s my choice to live outside the box, but I’m pissed. I know couples who have not-one-but-two cushy benefit plans, so simply choose to mine the fattest and let the other one lapse. I’ve thought about placing an ad offering my servicesâ€”sexual or otherwiseâ€”in exchange for an unused spousal benefit plan. But since I’m legally married now I guess that’s no longer an option.
Which leads me to the next possibilityâ€”the dental vacation. In the works: a trip to Merida, Mexico, where D. will brush up on his Spanish while I brush up on my teeth. It is rumoured that the well-certified and gringo-friendly dentists of Merida can repair my congenitally crappy teeth for a fraction of Canadian fees. That, plus a few cheap margaritas, should go a fair way toward relieving my dental malaise.