Friday, October 14, 2011


I had to go to the dentist today. I would love to go to the dentist if it weren't for all the messing about in my mouth. Otherwise, the combination of the soft reclining chair, the soothing music and the complete lack of anyone harassing me for snacks, robot leg parts or piles of freshly collated paper would make it my favorite place on earth.

I tried to count how many dentists I've had in the last fifteen years. I gave up after six, but I figure it's around ten. I started counting because the dentist asked me who DID THAT to my mouth. It was not a compliment. He was not impressed with several generations of my dental work, and asked me if I had gone to a military dentist. As it happens, I've never done that, but apparently the alternative was not all that great, either. How am I supposed to know, though? And maybe this guy is a big fat chiseling liar. I read this article one time about a guy that did an experiment- he picked about ten dentists out at random and went to each one for a cleaning and checkup and wrote about it. The variation in what he was told was HUGE. Some of them told him his teeth were fine and didn't need work, and others told him he needed THOUSANDS of dollars worth of work IMMEDIATELY or his teeth would explode and fall right out of his head and he would have to eat gruel until the shards got into his brain and killed him dead. I should definitely stop reading.

Very disheartening, especially when you move around all the time, and once you choose a dentist, at least with the military insurance I had, you're stuck, because they'll only pay for the new patient exam once every three years. I have the same insurance now, and I had to eat today's work because they won't pay for the composite filling, only the silver. Rat bastards. I'm pretty cheap but there is no way I'm going to have silver fillings on the front of my teeth. I wonder if there are any do-it-yourself dental kits on the hippie market. If there isn't, there definitely should be. Maybe I should invent one. How hard can it be, right? We already pretty much do home health care. Anytime one of the boys gets wounded, Lloyd slaps some honey on it and covers it up with cotton balls. Their reports of injuries have diminished dramatically, so it must work.

And while we're on the topic of medical care, you guys will like this: Shane has some weird little rash on one of hands, in between his fingers. It looks like eczema, maybe, or a mild infection. It looks better now, but we have been debating over what it might be with the able assistance of Dr. Google. Lloyd said, 'You know, they say people that live in a too-clean environment get sicker because their immune systems just aren't used to germs.' While I know this is true, I am pretty sure we are not in this category of antiseptic people, and I told him so. Then he said, 'I know! See, it's working!' Then he slapped on some honey and a cotton ball and covered the whole mess with duct tape, and now it's almost as good as new. I used to squirt breast milk at their cuts, too. I know it sounds a little weird, but it really works. You can read about it here. Plus you don't even have to get up to get the honey and cotton balls, so it's super convenient for the motivationally challenged among us. Unfortunately, Shane gave up his nursies earlier this year after trading them for a Nerf gun, so I've been deprived of that tool in my do-it-yourself medical kit. But we have plenty of honey, apple cider vinegar, and garlic, which are the basis of almost every slightly crunchy remedy, so that should keep us plenty healthy. And smelling good!

Have a good weekend, wherever you are! We're having beautiful, crisp and clear fall weather and are going to carve pumpkins with the cousins and then have some friends over. I'm hoping for an injury free weekend, but Lloyd just made Shane a slingshot and gave him some rocks. I better get my breast pump out.

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