It's time for some exiting dental talk.
I've had three allografts since 2007 to repair my gums on the lower part of the mouth. That's all you need or want to know. I went to the dentist about twice in my life growing up so I'm catching up now with my dental plan.
They cut into my gums, add tissue and then stitch it up. It's a bloody procedure that causes some pain, discomfort and forces me to eat soft food for two weeks. So no pizza. No apples. No potato chips. No sandwiches. Nothing that needs serious chewing to digest.
Yes, it's quite an annoyance, but I can live with it. What I can't live with is the stitches. As I type, they are flailing about in my mouth like a drunk driver in Miami and it is driving me nuts.
The stitches are right at my bottom front teeth and the tip of my tongue. And for the past 48 hours I've been fighting these annoying stitches. I can't stop. I try my best to ignore it and focus on the task at hand, like reading an AP wire story on Shaq twittering about football or the whiny, cry baby Ravens bitching once again after a loss to the Patriots. But ... I ... can't ... stop. It's like that itch that won't go away, this tangle of stitches in my mouth.
For this reason, I'm going back to the periodontist tomorrow to have this problem solved once and for all. Either stitch it back up or tear them out. Those are the only options. For my sanity.
While we're on the subject, the periodontist wants me to see an orthodontist. Yeah, I have two crooked teeth and the periodontist thinks I need that fixed. When I was about 10 or 11, I heard the same thing but we did nothing about it.
But the thought of braces ... doesn't excite me.
Imagine me as the Joey Galloway of social creatures. I've dropped the ball on many occasions and I'm older than many of my peers. Now tie one of Galloway's arm's behind his back. Then tear one of his legs off. And throw him in a shark pit. That would be me with braces. Just slap and A/V shirt on me and kick me in the balls while you're at it. By the way, with braces I probably wouldn't need those either. So kick away.
I'm a man! I'm 27! I can't go around looking like Neil Goldman. I said as much to the periodontist and he told me there are other options besides metal mouth, though they're more expensive. Still, the fact that this might be necessary ticks me off. It's fifth grade all over again. Give me a Goosebumps book and the Technodrome for Christmas.
And some new front teeth.