Went to the dentist a couple of weeks ago. The first time in *murmur, murmur* years. I was a little concerned about a crown I have, worried that the underlying tooth was damaged and that I would need a root canal.
Been there, done that, don’t ever want to go back. The after tooth-excavation pain-relief medication given for a previous root canal was what led me to the realization that codeine and I don’t play well together.
Two words… yellow bats.
That’s all I’m gonna say about that.
I digress.
The crown was fine, thankyouverymuch. X-rays looked good, and there was no pain or temperature sensitivity, and it wasn’t loose. It was just wonky. I had a difficult time trying to explain my concerns to the doctor. The tooth just felt… well… squishy.
The doc thinks the weirdness may be caused by me grinding my teeth at night. He asked if I was under any stress. I laughed. More of a nervous laugh than a hysterical laugh, but it was close.
He gave me some homework to help determine if I do indeed clinch my teeth and a recommendation for a mouth guard to wear at night if necessary.
If only he could recommend some sort of guard to alleviate what’s causing my stress.
“Hot things, sharp things, sweet things, cold things, all rot the teeth, and make them look like old things” ~ Benjamin Franklin
This week’s word is:
Gnash
What to do:
Using “gnash” for inspiration, write 100 Words – 100 exactly – no more, no less. You can either use the word – or any form of the word – as one of your 100, or it can be implied. Include a link in your post back here, and add your story to the Mister Linky list. If you don’t have a blog, you can leave your submission in the comment section, or as a Facebook status post. Remember to keep spreading the love with supportive comments for your fellow Wordsters.
This came to mind instantly as it is a daily occurrence at my house now that I am home all day and no longer working. 🙂
Retirement is not all it is cracked up to be. As what felt like the 10th time in a day she prepared something to eat. It was bad enough coming up something to make. The prep time and mess ensured that at least an hour would be spent before and after meals that lasted perhaps twenty minutes. Chop up. Cook. Eat. Clean up. Put everything away.
Worst of all, making her grind her teeth in frustration, was him. Television remote in hand as he called, “Vendor” whenever he wanted something to eat as if he was at the baseball park.
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I am not looking forward to my husband retiring. He gets under foot if he’s home only for a day, it drives me crazy.
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It is a challenge getting used to be together so much! My husband keeps rearranging my kitchen! Not that he cooks. He just likes to show me ways to do things better. 🙂
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My husband does that too, drives me batty. Rearranging doesn’t help me do things better if I can’t find what I need to do the work.
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