Teeth, again

So today I finally had a dentist appointment, after nearly two years without one. My mother was practically breaking out in hives, especially since this morning I did what was, in hindsight, probably a very bad thing, and announced that I had a black spot in the crease of one molar. Black spots are bad. In England I read paleopathology textbooks for fun, and they spend a lot of time on teeth, so I theoretically know how to diagnose cavities, from the tiny white "might become a cavity someday" spots, to the giant two-inch holes involving four teeth and the jawbone and a sinus dripping pus down someone's neck (the days before modern dentistry were bad ones, you guys.) Also, I still have that issue I talked about over a year ago with the gum over one of my canines being totally painful for no reason at all except, apparently, to give my mom ulcers, and I have all these spots near my gumline where the enamel just looks funny, and I found out this morning that my area of England does not put fluoride in their water, so my mother was totally convinced that my teeth were rotting out of my head, and my dentist was going to have to remove them all and give me dentures. And I have this ongoing issue with potential periodontal disease that actually really freaks me out, so I keep asking my dentist about it anyway, to his complete annoyance, I'm sure.

I got my favorite hygienist, G, the one with a personality kind of like mine but with the rougher edges forcibly removed so that she can deal with the public without too much yelling. I like her because she is sarcastic and totally happy to discuss the genetic markers in the population that can cause periodontal disease, just to entertain me. So I ran down my nice long list of issues my mother wanted me to discuss (I have no insurance here anymore so she was paying full price for this,so by God we were going to look at EVERYTHING), and G said, "Well, it's been two years, but we'll just see about that." Meanwhile, my mother is in the waiting room climbing the walls (what, like she was going to stay at home? Please.)

So I get my X-rays done (after I pry out all my earrings except the two that are never coming back out, and G, observing this, tells me to never pierce my tongue because there's a particular type of infection that can give me) and I have all the happy fun scraping and cleaning and poking my gums to see if the bone is dissolving (AUGH) and it all takes four times as long as you would think, because G is excruciatingly thorough and also remembers things (from two years ago) like how many foreign languages you're trying to learn and what you wanted to do your dissertation on, and keeps stopping to discuss this with you (meanwhile my mother is writhing in the waiting room because OMG THE BLACK SPOT.)

So finally she gets done and, before she goes off to get my dentist to look at me, she says, basically, "There is nothing wrong with you. That black spot is a STAIN, you've had white teeth all your life and you think every stain is a cavity, sheesh. Your gums are sore because you had the IUD put in and your immune system is freaking out. You are an alarmist and a hypochondriac. Dr. W. will be in shortly." Actually, my mother is the alarmist, thank you so much. But I still don't have any cavities, so I'm okay with these accusations.

I don't have any cavities, but I'm still going back to the dentist on Monday. You see, the Black Spot of Anticlimax is in the crease of a molar, and all my molars used to be sealed, but the sealant has come off three of them, and that was one of them, and now it's stained. And there are stains in one of the others, and G said "keep an eye on those, they may become problematic." And I went out into the waiting room and told my mother this, after I relieved her agony by saying there were no cavities but G says I should think about getting those molars resealed at some point. And my mother, being my mother, said "YOU ARE NOT GOING BACK TO ENGLAND UNTIL WE SEAL THOSE. Back in the office. We're making another appointment." Splendid.

Also, my mother would like you all to know that she feels her paranoia is justified, because she has crowns, root canals, and a perio pocket now full of sand in her lower jaw, and we do share the same genetics. And I feel she has a point, because ew.