I took this photo in front of a Pilates studio in my neighborhood because I thought it was funny. It wasn’t quite as funny when it became true.
At 2:45 am, the morning of Thanksgiving, I awoke with low blood sugar. I was in my mother’s home. I padded out of bed to rummage around the refrigerator looking for juice or fruit or something to raise my blood sugar. Yes, I could have taken a glucose tablet, but when my blood sugar isn’t dangerously low, I’d rather imbibe something nutritious.
No juice to be found, dried fruit would take too long, a jar of raspberry preserves went by unnoticed, I reached for some pomegranate seeds and began munching. Oops, I felt one get stuck in my teeth. Upon closer inspection, there was no seed there, and there was even less of a tooth there. I had cracked my molar and now a piece of it was missing. For the next four days my tongue kept returning to the emptiness where once there was enamel, and getting scraped in the process.
Thanksgiving at my mother’s friend’s home with a broken tooth meant a bit of turkey, roasted sweet potato and something I haven’t eaten in likely three decades for blood sugar reasons, white mashed potatoes. Boy, they were good!
Since it was Thanksgiving weekend, I couldn’t call my dentist until today, and now I’m booked in to see him tomorrow at 9 am. The good news is my tongue has gotten used to the new tooth terrain and is getting scraped far less often. Bad news? That remains to be seen. Still, I’m thankful, there are other teeth in my head standing in for their wounded comrade.
So while my mouth undergoes some redecorating, I am still enjoying my favorite of all seasons, the fall, as the leaves are still golden around here and I smile as the lights begin to come on for Christmas.