Veritable Landfill

H'Meh.

(My temporarily partially-paralyzed face)

So between less-than-perfect BYU health insurance and my complete lack of insurance from Timm's previous job, I estimate it had been at least 6 years since I last saw a dentist. Maybe even as many as 8. I do not practice perfect dental hygiene, but I brush and floss. I didn't even think much about it until I lost a filling a few months ago, before our new health coverage took effect. I made sure to floss it religiously since it kind of hurt and there was a gaping hole for food to accumulate in, but it was still about 4 months before I saw the dentist. Naively, I thought this would be the only problem. Maybe because I hadn't sat in a dentist's chair for many years, but I assumed since I had no pain in my mouth and my teeth looked good and white that there were no problems. In fact, the thought of other dental woes didn't even cross my mind until the dentist came in and started piercing my gums with a very sharp instrument, muttering notes to his hygienist for practically every tooth. It sounded something like "Number 13, possible RC, number 14 likely RC & other alphabetical dental codes that I didn't understand and don't remember..." Suddenly I thought- He really has a lot to talk about. Really, every tooth? You can't just skip one? I don't really know what you're saying, but I think you might be a little overly critical. And no, that does not feel like a "little pressure." It feels like you are poking tender gum tissue with the very sharp instrument that you indeed, are poking me with. I saw it. It's very pointy.

They couldn't even clean my teeth. I had to have the entire appointment devoted to a consultation. My results were not good. Turns out 'RC' stands for 'Root Canal' which in hindsight, makes perfect sense.He showed me a lot of fancy high-tech pictures of my teeth and pointed out all the dark, black shaded areas that were decay. He pointed out the roots of my teeth and how those ominous darkly shaded parts were dangerously close to those roots. He spoke of various degrees of severity in decay, from 1-4, all of which I had several times over. He showed me a visible hole in one of my teeth, aside from the one that had lost a filling. He pointed out under the wire cemented to my teeth where the floss failed to reach. Finally he gave me a detailed treatment plan that spanned many pages, included many stages over a period of time, and involved way more money than I could ever hope to afford to my evidently grossly neglected dental care. I was on the verge of tears, and I think the shock of it was the only thing that kept those tears from spilling over.

I took my veritable landfill of a mouth and left feeling chastised, embarrassed, poor, and discouraged. Who has teeth like this? Meth heads, illegal immigrants, homeless people, and people living in abject poverty, that's who. (Or so I decided in my traumatized state. No offense to these societal subsets- it's just that I'm not one of them. Or am I? I suppose with my teeth already in the state they're in, I could finally take up meth and ignore at least one of those nasty side effects.)

I returned for a cleaning, then later a cavity fill times two, which led to a visit to the endodontist to preform 2 root canals. (The first of several, apparently.) That used the entirety of my annual allowance from my insurance, with $350 left over. We got my teeth their first credit card to cover the balance, and now I am supposed to get crowns for those two teeth which will cost me $1900. Which I am not doing. I know, it sounds crazy. It probably is crazy. But the manager at the dentist office said I could probably get by with only the 'core buildup', whatever that is, until next January when my insurance rolls over. Yeah, a year from now. The core buildup will only cost a few hundred dollars, on my teeth's fancy shmancy new credit card, of course. Then we can move on to the many more teeth that need attention, and hopefully arrest their deterioration and prevent root canals for the rest of the lot. 

In summary, after six entire visits, I will have 2 of my teeth mostly repaired. We have a long way to go.

A highlight however, was having 8 full hours of numbness for half of my face, stretching to include part of my eye. These pictures were taken a few hours in, when a bit of it had worn off. I gave Timm no small amount of pleasure as I talked, and best of all tried to smile or laugh. He would laugh almost to the point of tears every time, insisting that I take my hand away from my mouth in self-consciousness. A couple of times through the day I would proclaim, "Timm! I think it's wearing off!", then flash him that winning half-smile. He would patronizingly reply, "Almost..." before laughing again. It made him especially giddy if I would mumble, "I have a few disorders" out of the corner of my semi-functioning mouth.

Good times.

In other good news, I have now been avoiding chewing on the left side of my mouth for going on 5 months, and with any luck I will continue to do so for another year until I can afford the crowns! It is a skill I am proud to cultivate.

Farewell Friend/Foe

We had these for our New Year's breakfast. (I added my own faux buttercream frosting, cause I'm just not a glaze kind of girl. Why would you go for a thin and understated glaze when you could go all out with a powdered sugar thick and tooth-achingly sweet frosting? That's what I always say, anyway.)

I think they both enjoyed it.

Another reason to enjoy these gooey delights? As of tomorrow we are going gluten-free.

Timm has a history of Celiac disease in his family, as well as in his body. He has never treated it, but in the last few months Bella has started to be symptomatic- at least I suspect so. She complains nearly every day of a stomachache and she has the genetic markers so we are instituting a gluten-free diet. I have suspicions about Fiona as well, so as long as anywhere from 25-75% of our family has Celiac disease we're going all in. It's good for us all anyway, if not more than a little inconvenient. I am going to take this opportunity to go sugar-free as well, since the two often go hand-in-hand. Anyone who knows me knows I talk about sugar a lot and have tried or intended to give it up for a long time now. As long as we are giving up so many processed foods, I am seizing the opportunity. Wish us luck, and if you have any tips, please share!

Today I bought quinoa and corn pasta. Huh.

I love those rare instances when I have a moment of clarity and feel like...myself. My weight has fluctuated over the years, but mostly with pregnancy. After I had Bella I lost the weight quickly and got below my pre-pregnancy weight and felt great. After she turned 2 it crept up a bit, but after we moved to NC I gained 60-yes, sixty pounds. Wow. Then I got pregnant with Fiona. Since I had Fiona I've lost about 50 pounds from my delivery weight, but I still have close to 40 pounds to lose. The closer I get to my goal weight the closer I feel to returning to myself, so why is it so hard to keep that in mind? I think it's a matter of faith and delayed gratification. Good food is instantaneous, right here, right now, whereas weight loss is a slow and arduous process whose results cannot be measured immediately. I know eating right and exercising works- it has worked for me many times before, and it is no small feat that I have lost the weight I already have. Why then, am I not more consistently dedicated? Why can't I keep in mind my true goals and desires more often?

At the very least, I am hoping that this slow and incremented process of losing weight ensures a better chance of maintaining the loss. I am really trying to focus on balance and making regular and consistent choices that I can live with.

On Saturday, before going to Chase's coming home party, I felt really good. I felt close to myself. A self that has been buried deep beneath the rubble of fat, self-consciousness, and at times, loathing. I feel like I am ever so slowing digging myself free, and the more I lose, the more I feel like myself again. I even act more like myself because I feel more free, less encumbered and confident enough to put it all out there.

I'm documenting all of this to help me remember how it feels to be me. How I feel when I take care of myself and when I treat my body with intent, love and respect instead of haphazard and indulgent debauchery. I turned 29 a couple of weeks ago and I really want to love my body and myself before I turn 30. I don't want to look back on my 20's ( at least the last half-) with regret and embarrassment. I want to greet 30 feeling the best I have in years, feeling like a competent and confident woman. A woman who is a mother of 3, has weathered a few storms and come out on top. A woman who has conquered anything set before me.

I've got one year to get back to me.

the Picture of Health

But not yet...

Fiona started showing some signs of illness last Wednesday, including a 103.5 fever, vomiting and a runny nose. We took her into an urgent care facility where she was diagnosed with your average ear infection- a first for our family. He prescribed antibiotics and the next morning she was markedly better, almost her usual cheerful self. Then Saturday night comes and explosive watery diarrhea rears its ugly head. We were changing her clothes and bathing her almost every half hour for a while. Miraculously she slept through the night. Sunday morning I get up with her and she promptly guzzles a sippy cup of juice. (Did I mention she hadn't eaten since Wednesday?) Almost immediately she is violently vomiting copious, almost unbelieveable amounts of milk and water, all over. Mostly all over me. That day was spent on back and forth on the phone with Urgent Care trying to determins if she needed to go to the emregency room. She was so so thirsty from not eating in days, vomiting and diarrhea, and I was only allowed to give her a couple of tablespoons every 15 minutes provided she kept it down. Needless to say, Sunday was wretched for both of us. She was listless and barely had the energy to moan and whine a bit. Her eyes were dark and sunken, her spine was starting to be more pronounced and she couldn't even sit on her own. Finally she held down some water, and today we are vomit free and the diarrhea seems to be waning. She even ate 3 bites of applesauce and a half of a popsicle! That means that since Wednesday her total tally of food ingested is 1/2 of a banana, 3 bites of applesauce, and half of a popsicle. In 6 days. Miraculously the fluids alone seem to have her almost back to normal. Today she was chatty, playful,and more independent, though she did nap for a cumulative total of 6 hours and went to bed at 6:30 pm.

I am so glad to have her back. It was really only 24 hours where her personality was so drastically changed, where the sickness overtook her and became all she was, but it felt oh so much longer. Tonight I am so grateful for the health of my family,

that toothy grin,

and those great big blue eyes.

And Medicaid.