Fresh back from a long morning with the dentist, who ground my four upper front teeth down to hillbilly stubs and glued on a temporary cap. The temp looks like four new teeth, but it’s actually a single piece with no spaces between. My tongue thinks it feels unnatural, and what’s worse, I can’t suck air through my incisors (don’t laugh … I didn’t realize how often I did that until suddenly I couldn’t). The permanents will be four separate caps, so they’ll look and feel normal.
I wouldn’t have done it if 1) the dentist hadn’t promised to make me look like a movie star, and 2) I wasn’t so vain I believed him. It was unpleasant and expensive, and I should have had it done long ago.
What else is new? No more white surgical bandage on my forehead. I’m down to sheer strips, and only for a few more days, with no additional followup visits. Good thing, that, because I’ve had so many weekly followups we’re now butting up against the next regularly scheduled dermatologist appointment.
Donna’s hosting bridge club tonight, so she and Polly, who is on her Tuesday/Wednesday Ace Hardware “weekend,” are furiously cleaning house. I thought maybe I’d go to a movie, but there’s nothing at any of the local cineplexes I care to spend money on. I don’t want to disturb the ladies by watching TV, so I’ll probably catch up with my reading instead. Not that I ever catch up.
While waiting for the insurance company to work the claim on my stolen bicycle, I researched replacement bikes. The check (minus the deductible of course) came last weekend and it was enough to cover one of the bikes I’d picked out: another Specialized Rockhopper, one model down from the old one. Being the next-cheaper one, it’s a little heavier than what I had before, but otherwise almost the same. Here it is, on the stand and out on its shakedown cruise:
 |
 |
I’m going to have to buy a stem spacer or two to elevate the handlebar, but otherwise the fit is good. I was also going to buy a new wireless odometer, but realized the Map My Ride app on my iPhone will do an even better job for free, so long as I remember to start the app when I take off on a ride.
Our son Gregory wants our old hybrid bikes, the ones Donna and I bought when we started riding several years ago. Gregory already has my old Gary Fisher, but our grandson Quentin rides it now and Gregory needs something to take on a 50-miler he foolishly signed up for. We’re driving to Las Vegas for a visit later this month and will thrown the bikes in the back of the truck.
Ah, the numbness is almost gone and I can taste again. Time for lunch, which I have to chew with my back teeth. No gnawing and gnashing, at least for a while. I see soup in my near future.