I like to think Im a pretty healthy guy.
I eat well, balanced foods, plenty of water every day.
I exercise, whether its at work climbing on the Jungle Jimmish Junkyard, or doing household duties, or dooties if Im changin the cat box, but anyway, Im well physically.
Then I breathe, and a whiff of death pierces my nostril and I know.....
PERIONDONTITIS.....ewwww, that flesh rotting,bones decaying scent.
Embarrassment overwhelms me, as I cover my mouth.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, all the years of Smoking, Drinking,and stress have at last led to this awful distasteful experience.
I asked for this result in an odd sort of way. But there is a solution.
Its a Band Aid for now, a way to repair the damage done, until I figure a way of realizing I no longer need poison to feel good.
Its my Periodontist. He is a magician.
He can see right into my mouth!
He can clearly see evidence of abuse.
He Xrays my endless shit hole of a mouth. Garbage in, garbage out.
Ive insulted alot of people in my time, mostly when Ive been drunk, or just so selfish. Ill get whats coming to me, Im sure.
He comes back into the examining room and tells me the sorrid story. I pretend Im shocked. I have to, it
pleases him, to think hes changing my mind about the way I live.
I already know, Im living it.
He continues to exalt his opinion while showing me in very HD clarity the deep cavernous holes that have developed alll along the lower jaw bone closest to my teeth. Maybe thats where my gums have been hiding, theyre so tight. I want to cut them out myself, for relief of the pain.
In those holes he says, bacteria are regenerating faster than my body can fight them, hence the rapid decay.
My teeth appear monstrous as the gumline recedes quicker and quicker. The smell growing thicker and deadlier by the day. No amount of brushing or fancy bullshit products can mask this filth.
He has to take an additional Xray for a particular angle was missed, and then the truth is seen! I see it, I see it!
Its the foot in my mouth. My god, its probably been there for years. It all makes sense now.
The times Ive denied suggestions from people whove only wanted to help, the surety of self, that I can do this all by myself attitude. Its all so clear!
The girl I made cry at the ice cream store years ago, I remember it,because it hurt me back, in hind sight.
The lying, the cheating. A straight face telling the story that never happened to attempt to get away with my various vagrancies.
Thats not BACTERIA, its PAYBACK, for a life lived so carelessly.
I judge another, and I lose yet another millimeter of gumline. Soon my teeth will loosen should I keep this up.
I lay back and relax, and the tools appear, freshly sanitized as if, Ive ever been so cautious about what Ive put between my lips. The hours added up to days in front of a Gloryhole, the weeks and maybe years added up smoking cigarettes and drinking.
Surely this will all come full circle.
He cuts the gumline with precision, unfolding the flap and theres more filth, growing and penetrating my roots. No wonder it hurts so bad. My immune system could never outsmart this hardened plaque,like steel it protects itself.
Scarpe, Scrape, its like chiseling a fine piece of glass, the way it chips, pieces project,some flies onto my face, Im crying, but not because it hurts, but rather because my embarrassment is at such a huge size, its frightening. Finally I am humiliated by my own hand.
He goes on and on about Smoking, and I just wanna say Shut UP! Seeing as Im in a perilous position with knives in my mouth, I let the tears flow instead..
Theres blood drool puddling in the corner of my mouth and it overflows onto my bib, it reminds me of the other awful predicaments my mouth has provided me when Ive opened it.
Ive lost homes, burned bridges, lost jobs, gotten lost. Just keep flappin those gums.
If he can really see who I am, perhaps he will do the right thing and just sew my mouth shut.
He scrapes, pokes,picks,sucks out all the fragments of decay. Its a shame in their. Repair can only begin he says with resting my mouth.
The best advice Ive ever heard.
Its all cleaned out and the smell has dissipated, and the taste of blood isnt so bad anymore. I can deal with that. He has to prepare a cow bone concoction, utilizing my own blood to create a paste of sorts that will adhere to my jawbone and regenerate new bone. Its pure magic.
Hes done the best he can. Suturing up the gums to hug that new rebuild nice and snug. Im feeling much totally very much better.
Its perverted to imagine I feel and know a new me just from sitting in that chair for a few hours. The Periodontist is much more than he thinks, to me. Im just a dollar sign to him. A punching bag he relates the awful results of how I live to my mouth. I KNOW, I KNOW.
