I went in for a dental cleaning today and told my dentist that my destabilized baby tooth (thanks, pregnancy) felt even more destabilized in the last few weeks. He took x-rays of the tooth and showed me what it looked like.

“The bone has completely degraded underneath the baby tooth!” he exclaimed while looking at the x-ray through the light. “The baby tooth has nothing to hang onto! It’s really any day now!”

My childhood dentist told me that I’d be lucky if my two baby teeth lasted until age 30. I’m turning 39 in just a few months. The only reason this baby tooth got destabilized is due to pregnancy tooth decay in the neighboring tooth, which resulted in a root canal in 2022 that shook up the baby tooth. All dentists I’ve seen since childhood have told me they’ve been amazed I’ve kept both baby teeth in such good shape for this long; I’m an anomaly. And as each year goes on and the baby teeth stay in tact, I’m even more of a freak (or miracle?) to them.

We decided I’d just wait until the tooth fell out on its own. That day is going to be utterly terrifying and relieving at the same time. I can tell it’s gotten looser in the last few months. I consciously try to avoid eating anything hard on my right side because of it. The day it falls out is also going to be a sad and bloody one, an end of an era. I just hope that when it does finally happen that I’m not in a public place; the last thing I want to do is freak people out by trying to run to the nearest bathroom with blood running down my mouth and chin. And then, at that point, I’ll need to get bone grafted for a potential implant, which will not only require surgery, but also be quite expensive. The dentist told me that I should be reserving next year’s dental allowance from my insurance for this. I’ll need to brace myself.

This is what getting older means: spending more money on annoying health-related procedures. It’s mortality staring me in the face.