Thursday, December 22, 2011

The Case of the Missing Tooth

Of all the teeth to break or lose, the front teeth are the worst because they are visible. And, as a public speaker of sorts – a teacher, presenting one’s self badly is contrary to the public image that one should project. To say nothing of the fact that I live like a bug under a microscope and EVERYTHING about me gets talked about. So imagine my dismay when I lost my front tooth yesterday!

I know there is no shame in breaking and/or losing a tooth. It happens. One just has to go to the dentist and get it fixed, usually at prohibitive cost. But before I get into the tale of losing my tooth yesterday I have to backtrack… to January of this year.

First off, those of you who have been following this blog religiously and those of you who know me well, know I wear full dentures – top and bottom. There is no shame in wearing dentures and in fact, it makes going to the dentist a breeze! I feel no pain when they work on my teeth because I simply pop them out of my mouth and a technician takes them into the next room to work on them.

Last year, while visiting Sam’s parents in Xi Shui (see A Hop to Xi Shui and Sam’s Parents entries posted in January of this year) I broke that tooth while trying to bite a chunk of meat from a microwaved duck thigh. We all know that reheated meat tends to be a lot tougher than freshly cooked meat. Fortunately Sam’s family was focused on the future in-laws and making the meal a success when I spit the broken tooth out and quickly pocketed it. While my Chinese hosts chattered their rapid-fire dialog I wondered how I was going to fix my tooth. I did not want to embarrass them or cause them any bad feeling for my breaking a tooth at their dinner table so I didn’t smile and talked only minimally, and with my face averted. And yes, they would have taken the blame for themselves about my tooth, and been mortified.

I did not blog about because I was mortified. Why, I couldn’t tell you. Intellectually I know there is nothing to be ashamed about when breaking a tooth but, for some reason I simply cannot get myself to present myself badly, in person or in writing. And that means my teeth must be intact (my hair must be combed and I have to have makeup and jewelry and decent clothes on too, but that is a different story). Could this tooth hangup be a part of my neverending vain streak? Will I ever vanquish it? That just might be a question I will never be able to answer.

In the States it would have been no problem to fix that tooth. Simply go to DentureCare and have them repair the dentures they made for me. I don’t think it has escaped anyone’s attention that I am not in America anymore and I aver I would have to be an idiot to think that things could go that simply in China, especially after witnessing the nightmare business of construction. But a year ago, while I had a tooth in my pocket that needed reseating I was not acquainted with these strange building practices. What I was acquainted with were other archaic practices like rinsing meat in cold water and chopping it on a dirty cutting board, and bureaucratic policies that simply made no sense.

I had asked Sam while still in Xi Shui if there are dentists that specialize in dentures. He told me, much to my dismay that denture wearers are few in China. Usually if a Chinese person’s tooth falls out, it stays gone. That was not the answer I wanted to hear.

On the two hour bus ride back from Xi Shui I reasoned: what would a dentist in the States do? Why, they would clean the denture and the tooth, and then glue it back in. It just so happened I did have some superglue at the house, so that is just what I did. The result was perfect: tooth reseated, well bonded to the denture and no further problems. NOTE: I was very careful to make sure the glue was completely dry before putting the denture back in my mouth. Wouldn’t do to poison myself or worse: glue my tongue to my denture, would it?

Flash forward to now.

That pesky tooth has broken loose two more times since that first time I glued it in but each time I was able to recover it, reseat and secure it in the same way. Yesterday was a different story.

Yesterday I was out and about. My electronic hotplate had died and I had parties to host this weekend. How could I host parties if I couldn’t cook anything? So I had to buy another hotplate. I reasoned I would first check the shops on The Street, and if they didn’t have one I would venture into town. I really didn’t have the time for that so imagine my delight at finding one right there, in the first shop I went to! And it is a much nicer hotplate than the one I had before.

How I wish I could say that, in my excitement at finding a hotplate so easily I swallowed my tooth! No my friends, I don’t get off the hook that easily.

Reasoning that I would have to take a lengthy bus trip into town and then walk a ways to the stores, I decided against fixing breakfast at home in favor leaving the house quickly and grabbing a sandwich on Snack Street. Living at the back of campus I don’t get to eat Snack Street food very often anymore and I do miss those tasty treats. I figured a breakfast sandwich would be mighty fine on this day of optimism and joy. It was while taking a bite of the sandwich that I lost that tooth.

But I knew. See, I knew that tooth was loose the day before, when I bit into a slice of thick bacon and felt it move. Rather than knock my own tooth out for the pleasure of gluing it back in I decided to let things ride their course and let it fall out on its own. I’ve recovered it every time in the past and this time would surely be no different, right? WRONG!!! So, losing my tooth was my own fault.

My friends, I tried everything to recover that lost tooth. Hoping against hope that it fell out of my mouth I carefully backtracked, searching the ground. No luck. I checked my scarf and my bag: maybe it had fallen in there? Nope. I KNEW this tooth was a goner before I even started those futile efforts but, with Sam’s entreaty that dentists in China do not deal with dentures, I had to fight mounting panic at the thought that the tooth was gone forever. I knew I had swallowed it because I could feel it in my throat. I really did try everything to recover it. I’m not going to go into detail of the lengths I went to recover that tooth. I’ll leave that to your imagination and simply tell you yes, I even tried that.

Last resort: call Sam. I’m simply going to have to – haha – bite the bullet and task him with finding a dentist that handles false teeth. Surely there are denture wearers SOMEWHERE in China!

Now it is today. Yesterday’s optimism is gone and I am as gap-toothed as any 7 year-old. And now I AM acquainted with backwards building practices so my imagination is running rampant: I’m going to have to live without my dentures for two weeks! And this at Christmas, when I have parties to host and company coming over and traveling planned and still have some teaching to do! Or worse: the denture repair would be so expensive that I would have to not only spend all the money I have saved up but would have to take out a loan to boot! Or even worse: Sam can’t find a dentist that deals in dentures and I’m going to have to live gap-toothed forever more!

As it turns out the solution was easier than I could ever have anticipated. Sam’s first line of action was to take me to the hospital where all foreigners get treated. Surely they would have a dental clinic there. That hospital happens to be a ways away so, as we walked up The Street to the bus station he asked me if I wanted to check with the local dentist, right there on The Street.

Guess what? Not only do they handle dental prostheses but they have overnight service. And the cost is more than reasonable!

And so it came that, after a brief admonition that my dentures are not very good quality (I knew that) and could be remade, and after being told the cost (200Yuan, paid up front) to fix the broken tooth, I returned to my apartment toothless but with the promise that I could pick up my dentures after 9AM tomorrow morning. The dentist even gave me a few face masks to wear while out and about so it would not be immediately obvious that I was completely toothless.

After all my fears, imagine my relief at fixing this problem would be so easy, and so cheap.

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