“I spent half my life thinking dying was the most important thing I could do… or — at least — that dying was my most likely accomplishment. What the fuck did I care about what shape my teeth were in? Who knew, ten years ago or fifteen years ago that I’d be here ten years later or fifteen years later needing to have a tooth pulled so my jaw doesn’t get infected which will require even more surgery?”
“When You Spend 6570 Consecutive Days Wanting To Kill Yourself The Little Things Get Neglected… Like Dental Hygiene”; Me, June 13, 2007
Sometimes just the act of delaying a defeat can be a victory.
I had another tooth pulled last week. It wasn’t a surprise. This was the second time it had become infected, and even though the infection was again killed by penicillin, there was just too much damage done to the tooth. I couldn’t even close my mouth properly because the infection had pushed the tooth up just enough that chewing was difficult, and painful.
So the dentist pulled it out, and I have another giant hole in my face… and now I almost have enough holes they’ll soon be turning into ditches.
But it’s not as bad as it could have been. The tooth was originally supposed to be pulled way back in November of 2008, but once the penicillin killed the infection, and knowing I would have to lose it sooner rather than later, I decided I was going to keep it for as long as I could. Which was last week.
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...salted lithium. 