All posts for the month September, 2016


Published September 20, 2016 by sarcasmica

I’ve written stupidly about my dental woes in the past. It’s unexciting to say the least. It’s also not really all that relatable, i’m sure. Who has 7 baby teeth as an adult? Lots of people might retain a couple, but seven?!

Anyway, yesterday was my maiden voyage into Nitris Land. I’ve never had laughing gas for anything because i’ve never had to be put under any kind of anesthesia other than what is necessary for child birth – and yes. it is necessary to this momma!

I had to have TADs put into my head. See, I’ve had braces since May, but my current root system in my teeth is so juvenile and incapable, my options were to add screws to my jaw bone for more leverage or get head gear so the braces could actually move my teeth where they need to go.

It’s bad enough i’m a (7 days from) 40 year old with braces, but I have to draw the line at head gear at my age. Call me vain.

So my orthodontist referred me off to an oral surgeon to put them in. What the hell are they?

And let me just say for the record, I am SOOO glad I waited to google this thing. The images are not pretty. See that itty bitty screw? That goes above your teeth into your skull/jaw bone. I got four put in. One in each front quadrant.

I could make a list of all the things I’d rather go and do again, but frankly the meds are keeping me from spending that kind of time on this. Let’s just say it begins with a papsmear and ends with changing a tire… in the rain… at night … in Texas.

Up until the point my fat ass was in the chair, everyone kept telling me “it’s no big deal. you don’t have nerves ‘up there’ so it really isn’t going to be that bad” (note to self: all the people saying these ridiculous things haven’t actually had to get these screwed into their own heads) Also, at the time of course it isn’t “that bad” because you’re numbed. It’s the AFTER that sucks balls. There may not be nerves where the screw sits, but there sure as hell are nerves in the gum the fucker went through! And there’s hella nerves in the inside of your lip and face!

“Don’t panic the victim”

Nitris review: Awesome! It took me a while to actually let it flow. I didn’t realize how much I was breathing through my mouth until the doc and assistant kept chanting at me, “Nice biiiiiig deeeeep breath into your nose.”

I have issues giving up my self control. I have never been shit-faced. I’ve never been so drunk i’ve passed out or puked. Call me cynical, but I don’t trust others to maneuver or manipulate my body where it needs to go if I can’t. I’m like a drugged rhinoceros. You just need to call in the crane.

But I let it flow. I’m so glad I did because when home cheese pulled out the mega crank that these “itty bitty” screws were being inserted with, I would have just passed out. The first one, admittedly, went in without a hitch. I was totally conned into thinking, “Hey! I can do this! Three more to go like that and it’ll be cake!”

Then he starts to screw in the bottom TAD. Now I don’t know if y’all realize how strong our bottom jaw  bones are, but they are like stone, apparently. Mine, even stronger. He turned this puppy over and over and over and then ..


The head of the screw actually broke off.


Guess what that means! He had to go in after the post. So now I have stitches AND a TAD. He tried to make me feel like Wonder Woman by asking me in my drug-induced and shocked haze how old I was. I mumbled through a jaw opener and a numbed face “lakdj;lkajty” which he translated to “40 next week”

Jokester the Oral Surgeon : “Well, good news: You have amazing bone density. Bad news, the screw broke.”

I did tell him while I was still coherent “you’re funny on gas.” I don’t know if he appreciated my critique but I was drugged, so I didn’t give a flying pug.

So after cutting open my gum – i guess ? – to retrieve the post, and sewing me back up, he had to then drill 2 pilot holes on my bottom jaw to then insert the TAD. So I got drilled six times for 4 screws.

It was all fun and games until the numbing and gas wore off. My husband and I were sitting at the pharmacy drive through window just waiting for my Vicodin/Ibuprofen cocktail. My face began to just throb and ache. I went home and was in a drug induced haze all afternoon. My dreams were enhanced by the thunder storm that moved in. Because of course the one day I’m ‘off duty’ and actually get to sleep in bed all day the cosmos have other plans.

My mom had to pick the kids up from school and as soon as she left the house, the rain came down in buckets. It turned to hail and more thunder and lightening. As soon as they walked in the door 20 minutes later, all storming ceased.

So today I woke up feeling like I have a face of stone that throbbed with every heart beat. I nipped that in the bud with some more motrin and now I get to take my panicked and totally anxious daughter to get her first fillings. Needless to say she’s slightly terrorized by mommy’s procedure even though I’ve reassured her over and over what she’s having is NOTHING like what I had.

…. if only she could understand my slurred and numbed speech

I’ll just leave these here for comparison. The cartoon drawing just doesn’t do the beauty of it justice, in my opinion. :p

(This is not my mouth, but I felt it depicted the reality of what I have  …  only mine are in the front, sitting where my lip connects to my gums. It’s LOTS of fun having a screw rubbing up under the inside of my lip 24/7 x 4) but hey, they say it’ll all be worth it!





School EVE!!!

Published September 5, 2016 by sarcasmica

Okay okay, I know i’m supposed to be giddy with excitement that my kid’s all day drama is now the teacher’s to deal with, and I am. I’m overjoyed. I’m ecstatic that we’ve made it through another summer and into yet another school year. Schedules, tasks, work, lunches, laundry, filled days, practices and due dates.

But each year it gets a little more real that time is never stopping. (except around mid July when it seems summer will never end)

Maybe it’s the friends I have with older kids always cautioning me that I’ll miss these days. Maybe it’s the Hallmark commercials or maybe it’s just my old lady hormones kicking in. Each night I ask myself how much longer he’ll still want goodnight kisses. How much longer could he possibly want to be read a bedtime story? How much time before he stops coming to me with his frustrations and challenges? Once in a while he still reaches out to hold my hand and I have to pretend it doesn’t melt my heart or he wont ever do it again.

My oldest is a 5th grader as of tomorrow. While he has always been the most challenging child on the planet, he is my little man. He’s the little blonde-haired blue-eyed boy that introduced me to motherhood and has been with me through all of it ever since. Big, bad, ugly, funny, silly, and beautiful. No matter what I do he still seems to want me around for hugs and kisses at the end of the day.

How much longer have I got? I know that I take a zillion pictures, but it’s because looking back at how far both of my children have come is my trophy. I don’t take (many) photos of the challenging moments because that isn’t what makes this experience rewarding necessarily. Those moments of tantrums and shouted words are burned into my brain already. The pictures are to remind me that we keep going. We get through the tough stuff, we move along and savor the good.

Here’s to another school year. Cheers to accomplishments and growth and knowing we still have at least now to hug and hold and love these creatures we’ve made before the hormones take them to The Upside Down

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