Having just had to go to the dentist for an issue with one of the few remaining teeth I have left has me thinking about my dental history.
At the age of twelve I lost my top four front teeth to a car dashboard (a time before seat belts). The partial dental replacement I got after that was held in place by wires around the molars, that, over the years, ate away at those supporting teeth eventually resulting in the need for an upper denture. Throughout my life I’ve become quite familiar with the dreaded root canal procedure that did preserve some of the lower molars for a while, but eventually the caps broke down and the teeth cracked.
I should, I suppose, appreciate the richness of my dental experiences; experiences that those with sound teeth never realize.
