Oh, the trauma

Okay, I'm awfulizing, but yesterday was horrible!

Not the part where you left comments pointing me to your favorite blogs. (And thanks, Denise, for your very kind words about mine, that was a treat to read in an otherwise helluva day.)

The Great Denture Adventure continues. Yesterday I actually got to try the fit of the new appliance. Five minutes later I was in tears. And I was still in tears half an hour later when I got home. And … well, you get the idea.

If your genetics have already predisposed you to eventually needing dentures, do everything you can right now to overcome it. I'm sure I could have done more, but seriously, I've known this day was coming for a long time. Probably since my first visit to a periodontist more than 25 years ago.

Suffice it to say the fit was so not right that the dentist had to take another bite impression and we're tacking an extra week onto the whole process. I get another "try-in" next week and then they'll make the permanent plate.

That is, if it fits right.

According to Dr. Google, DDS, it can take months to get used to having a football in your mouth. I realize millions of denture wearers have become accustomed to them, and I'll give it the old college try, I really will.

But I was ready yesterday to decimate my retirement account in order to pay for waaaaaay more expensive implants. Even knowing that because of the severe bone loss I've suffered I'm not a good candidate for those, either.

I wish I could be just like Scarlett and "think about it tomorrow." But seriously? All I can think about is what a pain in the ass roof of the mouth this has been, is and will continue to be.