Just in time for Hallowee, you ask for a dental tale.
First you need to know I was a premie. My mother swore up and down that she drank lots of milk while carrying me. I believe her.
The real problem was cigarettes. She smoked from the age of 10 till she quit at 73.
She was around fifteen when I was born.
Why am I bringing this up? Because I had what they call chalk teeth, dang little calcium or enamal, and studies later showed that tobacco was often the cause.
I have the shivers at the sound of a dental drill to this day.
No longer any real reason for that fear, as I had my last teeth pulled out at thirty one.
The dentist told me they should have been removed when I was fifteen.
And they have never been able to fit me for dentures. They just don’t fit no matter what they do, and they dig.