When life gives you a broken tooth…

Note to self: meticulously search for stones before consuming.

I arrived at work this morning in a right jolly mood. I began the day by trotting myself happily to the kitchen to create my favourite breakfast: sliced banana, blueberries and pomegranate. After preparing my festive fruit salad, I proceeded to gobble it down while chatting away with a colleague about some work issue. I don’t remember what the topic was because mid-chew, I bit into a stone. I then I realised with horror that the stone was not alone and would take a gracious chunk of my tooth with it. Waaaah…..

I sat there for a few minutes staring miserably at the evil fruit that had just murdered my back molar. I felt the razor sharp edge of the remaining bit of tooth and pondered the torture it would conduct on my tongue with every word I said. My colleague didn’t notice my sudden, stony silence so continued the chat, but when I informed her that I had just swallowed my tooth, she let me escape to my office. I continued my pity party there in front my computer, tonguing the pathetic remains of my molar.

After a good five minutes of feeling truly sorry for myself, my dear colleague offered me the contact of her dentist, who fortunately practices near our office. I would have to see a new dentist, I resolved. My previous dentist had suddenly up and vanished when I called recently for a checkup, so that was that.

Since I live in Holland and dentist receptionists don’t tend to speak English, I would have to make the call in Dutch. While I can speak the language, I didn’t know how to say “molar”. I again resolved that I would just have to just struggle through the phone call.

And I did: I called and did my best to communicate that my tooth was in serious trouble, not to mention my already bleeding tongue. I have an appointment tomorrow.

I know a broken tooth is not the end of the world, or even the end of a good day. I told myself that at least I didn’t have a broken arm or worse, and that having to see the darned dentist was more annoying, than anything. Thank heavens I have a life where I can go to the dentist; that I can afford it and that one is readily available to save my tooth.

In addition: I recently made a list of “commandments” at the suggestion of the author of The Happiness Project, one of which states:

  • Get shit done. Do it now.

While I was motivated by my bleeding tongue to get this situation cleared up asap, I also knew that the usual me might just try to live with it for another week or three. I am a confessed procrastinator for the most shocking of things: getting cavities fixed, taxes, applying for my visa renewal, etc.

I am happy I made the dentist appointment. Tomorrow is my last day at this job, so I will endure my going away party with a drooling, half paralyzed face. Oh well. Life is life, and it ain’t so bad for me. Today was still a relatively fun day.

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