Toast and marmalade

My Christmas gift from Santa Claus is a brand new set of beautiful white teeth. It's what I wanted and needed.

A couple of years ago while having work done on teeth that had fillings galore, porcelain and gold caps, coated with a thin layer of whitening solution, my dentist, Dr. Doug Smith, told me that I was heading for dentures. I mulled this solution over for two years. It was one I didn't want to deal with. Last fall, on a bright sunny day after a few side teeth literally fell apart and I swallowed a filling one night when I gulped, I announced to Hubby that the time had come to proceed with dentures. This pleased him and I think I heard a sigh of relief. A giant decision for me. I am a coward with the thought of surgery on any part of my body.

Consultations followed with Dr. Doug, who would do the surgery under anesthetic, and with Dr. John Atchinson, and Linda his assistant in Whitefish, who would do the dentures. The procedure for imprints of my teeth was yucky so I'll not go into it. I left the office wondering if I had the inner strength to travel forward. Hubby calmed my fears. With Linda, from a double folder of samples, we selected my set of teeth. When they were ready I brought them home in a box. While waiting for an appointment with Dr. Doug for the BIG day I stored them in the refrigerator to keep them out of harms way, like knocking them to the floor in one of my uncoordinated phases. Not only that, it kept them cool. The big day came on Dec. 1 at 10:30 a.m. Nervous? Yes.

Fists clenched I tried to relax in the lounge chair in Dr. Doug's patient room. An assistant stood by.

I looked down at my right hand. A needle secured with tape caught me unawares. I hadn't felt the insertion. Doug told me that I'd be in a light state of sleep and would possibly hear their voices. I drifted easily and about an hour or so later I opened my eyes, and I had a mouthful of teeth.

Amazing! I didn't hear conversation though Doug told me I answered when they spoke to me. Strange. It made me wonder what I said. I felt relaxed. Similar to awakening from a soft sleep. On the way back to Bigfork we stopped for pain and antibiotic prescriptions.

The next day we drove to Whitefish for Dr. John and Linda to check the fit of my teeth and instructions to clean and remove them. I told them how happy I was with my new white teeth and that they looked exactly as mine were when I was a model for Vogue Magazine in London at age 18.

I must have been in a fog when Linda showed me how to remove my teeth as the next day, standing in the bathroom, I tried to remove the top set. They wouldn't budge. I tried again. No luck. Tears of frustration and panic rolled down my cheeks. I jumped up and down like a two-year-old in a tantrum. I waft my arms up and down as if I were a bird in flight. I left the bathroom and found Hubby in his chair. I blubbered, "I can't get them out. The won't move."

Calmly he said, "Linda showed me how you do it. Place your thumbs behind the teeth and your forefingers under your top lip and push forward." I dried my face, told myself to relax and did as Hubby had shown me. WOW! It was easy with a lift action on the metal prongs that secure the lower plate I murmured, "piece of cake," when they came out.

The third day after surgery I rested in bed waiting for dawn to break. A tight band, similar to the tightening of a blood pressure band, gave me cause to ponder.

Half a dozen deep, short breaths of cold fresh cold air outside didn't bring relief so I took two whiffs from my inhaler. No Change. I read the pamphlet that came with the drugs. It said something about heart reaction. I called Dr. Doug. He said that the tightness wouldn't be caused by either one.

"Barb," he said. "I'm going to send you to the hospital and the ambulance will be at your door in five minutes. Pack an overnight bag." I tried to talk him out of what seemed to be drastic then reluctantly did what he said. The phrase "doctor knows best" ran through my mind. The tightness around my chest had relaxed.

After I settled, the ambulance attendants (wish I knew the names of the three) taped an assortment of wires to my upper body in assorted places. They continually asked about the pain, which I assured them that to me it wasn't pain. At least not what I would term as pain. So off we go in the little Bigfork Ambulance to Kalispell Emergency. Doug assured me that the siren wouldn't be on. I thanked him for that.

In the warm interior, rested on pillows and the constant care from the medical attendant, I relaxed to enjoy my one and only ride in an ambulance. I'm facing the back door and scan the scenery that I know so well. From my vantage point the familiar scenery from a different angle was new to my eyes and very pleasant.

In Emergency, wires were removed and other sets attached. I was well attended by nurses and Dr. Van Arendonk. I'm glad I had the last minute thought of a book to read. Two or so hours later, thankfully, I was released with a clean bill of health. Hubby, who followed the ambulance in our car, drove me home.

Eating became a puzzle. My tender gums couldn't tolerate food that needed to be chewed. Every variety of soup known to Campbell's and our crock pot were basics for two weeks as well as Cream of Wheat, oatmeal, mashed bananas, avocado, chocolates that melted in my mouth, custard rice pudding, applesauce and cup upon cup of hot chocolate topped with a handful of marshmallows, a thoughtful gift from our nephew Larry. Our dear daughter-in-law Cheryl, sent a box of Idaho Spud bars. Because the coconut on the chocolate coating caught in my teeth, I peeled it off down to the marsh mellow filling. Delicious.

One item of food I craved was toast and Marmalade, my comfort food. At the third week stage my gums had healed well enough to chew. I made two pieces of buttered, whole-wheat toast with the crust cut away. I opened the refrigerator where I keep my jams (and teeth) and had the shock of my life. No Marmalade. Peanut butter is always good on toast. A healthy layer mixed with honey tasted so good that I made a third piece of finger size strips. . I dubbed them Sticky Fingers.

This brought to mind my first visit to Australia with our son Jim, his wife Anne, 4 year-old Jennifer and two year-old Ben. At lunchtime one day I had Ben in my care while his Mum attended a meeting. To be sure that the sandwich would be to his liking I made it on his high chair tray. He pointed to the crusts and said, "Cut" I cut them off, added cheese and a top slice of bread. I proceeded to cut it in triangles. "NO-NO-NO." he screamed and the same reaction for four squares. At a loss I cut fingers. He smiled his approval. Ben is now a third year student of Law and Engineering at the University of Melbourne.

I must say, that I'm surprised at how well my decision to have new teeth turned out and I smile at everyone I meet, which I was reluctant to do with my own set and am now eating adult food.

I express my grateful thanks to my dentists, doctors, their assistants, the Bigfork Ambulance and Emergency crew who attended me with loving care step by step through what I had shunned for so long. And to dear Santa for constantly watching over me and tending to my every need.

May the New Year bring you all happiness, continued good health, and good will and happy smiles, like mine.