Where Would You Draw the Line? or What does it take to convince me?

Thousands of dollars have been invested in my mouth. My teeth and my jaw. When I was 2 or 3 my jaw was broken and had to wired shut to repair the break. I have no idea how complicated or simple that was, but I know it left me with an overbite that I don’t think most people have.

When I was 7 or 8, while out running errands with my daddy, we stopped at a filling station (gas station for those of you too young to know and no, not a 7 Eleven or Circle K, or Toot-n-Totem) and I wanted some gum. Daddy gave me some money and I ran inside. Graceful has never been my long suite so I, of course, slipped in my strappy sandals and fell face first onto the hard concrete floor. Both front teeth were chipped in an arch. I remember crying. But what I remember most was my mother’s face when Daddy told her what had happened and her comments about how much money they had already spent on my teeth. Her face showed pure horror, her hand over her mouth as she bawled. Yeah, that is about when I realized how bad it apparently was.

I lived with those chipped teeth for many years. Of course, the torture at school was unmerciful as I changed from the school I had always known and friends I loved, to a country school where I was the new girl with the ugly teeth.

When I was 12 or 13, on one of our many trips to Mexico, in the border town of Piedras Negras, my parents took me to a dentist, who was going to give me a beautiful smile. I understood nothing that was said, and I don’t believe my parents did either. However, when I left, I had three new shiny looking teeth on the top front of my mouth.

Why three (?), you may ask, because I am so lucky to have genes that allow me to contract cavities on the sides of my teeth. Of course, my children also have this wonderful trait from their grandmother’s side of the family.

I wore that cap, yes, one whole piece over three teeth, making my mouth look “whole” for 5 or 6 years, until it came off one day. As a teenager I was terrified and wanted it fixed right away. Of course, my parents were in a better financial position and this time it was not a trip to Mexico but a real dentist. Who spoke English. Who said it was a temporary crown I had been wearing for years, not a true crown. Then he promptly gave me FOUR beautiful front teeth.

Now I was complimented when I smiled. Boys asked me out (not the ones from school, but other boys, college boys). All was good, front teeth wise for many years. Now remember, I am not discussing the number of fillings, crowns, root canals done on other teeth, just mainly my front teeth.

Is it any wonder I do not like going to the dentist? I don’t just dislike it, I abhor it. I think that is the word I want, it is the one that came to mind first. In a minute, you will understand that last comment/sentence.

In my late twenties, my gums were receding, due to the gum disease that runs in my family and my inept attempts at keeping it at bay. My beautiful smile became laden with grey metal around the edges of my teeth and my gums. I tried not to smile my most beautiful smile even though people told me I had a nice smile and I should smile more.

Over ten years later, when a man I really liked broke up with me and told me I had a nice smile but I should really consider getting my teeth fixed, I was crushed. I looked in the mirror and decided to invest in a smile.

Thousands later, with 4 root canals, a removal of an infected molar and bone loss, 4 new white crowns on the front. I started life over again.

One day, while in class with students and tearing tape with my teeth, one of my capped teeth broke off at the gum. I was mortified and called my dentist. No more tearing anything with teeth, other than food.

Now I have had two of those teeth break off at the gum and have had them screwed back in, along with two redone root canals.

The doctor I found, I really liked. I still do like her, and if I were in San Antonio, I would go to her in a heartbeat.

She told me about 5 years ago I should stop drinking sodas, diet coke, cokes, whatever you want to call it.

They are rotting my teeth. They will cause nothing but trouble for my mouth.

I did quit…. for a year.

Then I missed them, and started again, just now and then, mostly when mixing it with my favorite coconut rum.

I have not had many regular Coca Cola’s since I had children, mostly just Diet Coke.

This last year, while living overseas, where it is called Coca Cola Light, it is one of the few things that feel like “home” or “normal” to me.

So my new outlook has been, well, the next time I have to see the dentist, we will either do implants or I will have them all pulled and get false teeth.

Actually started asking about false teeth 15 years ago. Seems easier than doing what I am doing which is dreading the dentist until it is a major problem.

But my diet cokes in the fridge, which sounded good every morning and some evenings when I needed to “unwind”, were also whispering, “You really should give us up.”

So what is it that makes a person decide to give up a habit or something they enjoy that is really not good for her?

Something bigger than a pretty smile.

In August, I was in the states after a very relaxing cruise, I went to take care of some business and see family. The entire last week I was there, I was exhausted and felt sick. There were many stressors in my life, some I created and some that I felt from others close to me.

When I was traveling to the airport to return overseas, I ached all over. A knot in my back by my shoulder blades hurt. My friend stopped to work on it and then we continued on.

Once on the plane and in the air, my arms started hurting; I wondered if I was having a heart attack. My back hurt, my arms hurt, pain shooting through them. I leaned forward and had a good cry, hoping that would relieve it. I don’t know why I thought crying and releasing tension would help, but I did.

When I landed in DC to catch my next flight, I realized both my arms, just above my wrists and inside above my thumbs were numb, as well as a round spot above my right elbow on the outside of my arm.

I still boarded the overseas flight. The numbness didn’t go away and my arms hurt whenever I picked anything up. Not good when you are traveling with a backpack, carryon, and two large suitcases.

Two weeks after I returned, the numbness was present. A trip to the ER, where I was nervous about what they would find, I was reassured it was due to extreme stress, given some pills to “relax”, a complex vitamin B and calcium. They made an appointment for me to see a Neurologist.

Early September is when I saw the ER doctor. A week later, the txt for the appointment for the Neurologist came. It was for the 26^th, not of September or October, but for November. Hmmm, guess they aren’t really worried, so maybe I shouldn’t be either.

Last week I visited the hospital on my tiny island to renew my meds. Yes, here vitamins need a prescription.

They couldn’t give me exactly what I wanted, and after having had some success with relaxing more and sleeping more, I really just want to know if this numbness will ever go away.

Another phenomenon has surfaced. I have found myself thinking one word and saying another. Like when I mean to say turn on the lamp, I will say turn on the lighthouse, or something else totally unrelated. (Hence my comment about how abhor came to mind and I hope that is the word used in it’s correct form, as I cannot use my entire vocabulary, as limited as it is, in a country that does not speak my language fluently).

So, after some research online, which I try not to do, so I won’t think I have the worst diseases I read about, I found out there are a myriad of people with my symptoms.

Most say it is due to stress, or could be a small stroke. However, many say it could be related to intake of Aspartame. Also, I read how addictive it is and really I am not craving the caffeine in the cokes as much as the artificial sweetener.

Hmm. Diet Cokes, even Coca Cola Light, here, have aspartame in them.

So where does the line get drawn in the sand?

I am willing to let sodas rot my teeth (which are already bad). . So I can get some fake ones…and still have a great smile. 

However, I am not willing to let them take my words and my sense of feeling from parts of my body to the point I have nothing to smile about. 

So, there, I quit. The same day I read the article. I have not had one since and I will not have one, unless it is made with real sugar, not corn syrup, which I have given up for some months now. 

Try reading labels on your food. You might find there is more corn syrup in things than you ever imagined. But that is another story.

I still have a great smile. These days I do smile more than ever, but mainly due to where I am. It is perceived as friendly and happy in a place where perceptions mean so much. Plus, it makes some wonder what I have been up to, and I like that idea.

So if you are one of those people who once told me I should smile more, don’t worry, I am.

Now, when I find out what is causing the numbness and what to do about it, I will smile even more. However, in the mean time, I will continue to change my habits to take care of myself as best I can. It would have been wise to start sooner, but better late than never.