Biographical Fiction posted October 29, 2015

This work has reached the exceptional level

Gummy Mummy

by alvina224224

At the prime age of twenty-one, I was known as a 'good-looker', with a good-looking husband and two gorgeous children. And not a tooth in my head!

"I'm so sorry, dear," soothed the elderly dentist. "You have infected gums and all your teeth must be removed."

After all my suffering through, and after World War II, with visits to dentist ghouls, I was to end up gummy! I was devastated. Visits to the dental surgery were more frightening than Doodlebugs raining down on London, more painful than childbirth, and now this latest diagnosis was more than I could get my head around.

"There must be something else that could be done?" I pleaded. "All those needles, all that blood, I know I couldn't take it." Tears took over.

He was a kindly old gentleman really, and was well aware of my previous dental history. "Tell you what," he said. "I won't try to take them all in one go. I'll take them out two or three at a time."

I howled again in sheer fright at the thought. "Will you give me gas, so I won't be awake when you do it, please?"

"Yes, I will," he answered. "We'll start next week."

The week passed too quickly, and although I was not in pain, the apprehension was agonising. Quivering from head to toe, I succumbed to the face mask, and knew nothing until he shook my shoulder. "I was only able to get one," he said. "You started to come around and I couldn't give you any more gas,"

And that's how my toothless future progressed, one at a time. The poor dentist couldn't keep me unconscious! Three months, it took, before the last one was extracted and that night, believe it or not, I automatically spread toothpaste on my brush. My husband, him with the most beautiful set of perfect teeth, was in hysterics.

There was worse to come... "We must let your gums rest for three months, I'm sorry," said the dentist. "They are in a terrible state."

My baby son cried every time I smiled at him, and his older sister kept running her fingers over my flabby lips, saying, "Aah! Poor Mummy."

Then came the day to go back for my first 'impression' into the wax mould for my false teeth. I didn't expect it to be so traumatic, but when the warm wax slid to the back of my throat, I gagged and was convinced I was choking. I don't know which was the worst, getting teeth or getting rid of them!

When I finally left that dental surgery with a mouthful of false teeth, it felt as though I had swallowed a grand piano. My home was a bus ride away and foolishly, I thought that if I put a piece of chocolate in my mouth, it would help my teeth to stay put. A friend sat down beside me and greeted me cheerily.

"Well, how are you, lovely? Finished with the dentist?"

By then, I had realised my mistake. My tongue wasn't used to manipulating food in a mouthful of false teeth and when I nodded and smiled, my friend burst out laughing. "You've got chocolate all over your teeth, " she shrieked. "You look like a vampire!"

All that was some fifty years ago, and since then, I have blest the day it began, because I never went to a dentist again. Not until a year ago, that is, when I had a terrible abscess grow on the upper gum. An x-ray was taken and the dentist said, "You've got a tooth growing!" I nearly fainted, especially when he added, "It's got to come out."

"Only under anaesthetic," I yelled. Luckily, gas is much more efficient these days, and once the stitches had been removed, as the tooth was embedded in the roof of my mouth, I never looked back. -end

A Visit to the Dentist contest entry


This story is biographical, and every word is true. And you might not believe this, I cringed when I was writing it!
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