This time last Monday my week took a lurch. We have a referral from your dentist, said the email from the oral and maxillofacial surgeon, we could see you tomorrow.
The following afternoon I was sitting with the oral and maxillofacial surgeon as we took in the vivid three-D x-ray of my whole damn skull, in particular the bit where the remaining two-thirds of a molar was waiting to be hauled out. We've had a cancellation, he said, we could fit you in on Thursday.
By the end of Thursday afternoon I was one molar down and I had an implant screwed into my gum. It should hurt a bit, right? But no. Nothing. Let me tell you, I've had a few adventures with sedation but this one was quite the happy ride, almost enough to look forward to it.
It's been a cruisy few days; I'm on baby food: soup, macaroni cheese, custard, it's all pretty good. I've stacked up some sleeping hours, the only slight road bump has been a tendency to hiccups. And I won't be running for a while.
There might well be a point at which you might say, well that's it, I'll start letting the holes begin to accumulate, but for now, that feels like a surrender.
Your teeth will end up dying on you, in the fullest of eventualities. You should have seen them disappear from Dad in the final years. The Dad we knew would not have liked that, but inside the fog it was no matter, it seemed. You really can end up habituating in ways you might not imagine. But for now I am not letting go. It's the more expensive choice, but it feels like the more desirable course.
Three of my four grandparents had false teeth the better part of their adult lives; my father-in-law too, they were all of a time when the best precaution as a young adult was to have the lot taken out. Pretty daunting sort of prospect, don't you reckon? I wonder if they were given drugs as good as I was.
Pretty daunting to imagine spending your whole life compromised in that way, too. But then again, whatever happens, you just keep on steering downstream, don't you.
You keep on steering, you keep smiling with however many teeth you have.
Cheers for all the responses to the post about the Chateau Tongariro, and your memories. Cheers especially to those of you who have alerted me to people doing exactly the sort of tourism I wrote about. I love it when something turns out to be not just something I think would be nice to see, but is actually something people are doing. More stories to come, with pictures. These stories have such good pictures.
Also, it gives me something to write about that is not: how can this government be so determined to unwind and undo every halfway decent thing we've done in the past few decades, and how can this government be doing such a hapless job of telling people bullshit about what's wrong with things and how to fix them, and yet still keep getting their vote?
Do I have something particular in mind? Yes I do. Please come back tomorrow for an analysis of what voters have been telling TVNZ about how they reckon they might be voting in a hundred days' time.
Lastly, cheers to everyone who's made it onto the daily quiz leaderboard. A friend — hi Jane! — told me she's not keen on doing it if it's too bloody hard. I have to admit, I'm still experimenting with the degree of difficulty.
Karren helpfully said: I do like the Stuff quiz. So obviously I have some work to do. Just keep steering downstream, keep smiling with whatever teeth you have.
A couple of things: Quentin — hi Quentin! — or actually was it Craig? Anyway, someone asked if there could be a daily email reminder for each new quiz as they drop. Very happy to oblige! Please click here to get a daily reminder in your inbox.
Also, if you're wanting to make changes to your player name, like Sandy did — hi Sandy! — also no problem! Just click here.
And if you have any preferences for the quiz: easier, harder, different, more-like-Stuff-but-with-cussing-and-politics, do please join the conversation below. I aim to make it the most fun quiz you ever did. The lines are open.
