
This is not my kitty. It’s a sweet expression though, and I love kitties.
I woke up this morning acutely aware of several things. None of them were good, considering the state of current affairs, but, for me, the first breath of consciousness each day brings the unwelcome reminder that I no longer have any teeth (on the top of my jaw anyway. This may or may not be called the “crown” of my gums . . . I have asked Mr. Googly, but I’m still not sure). Also, I only have 13 teeth left on the bottom, which, hey, I’m grateful for so that’s why I state it only as an aside and not as part of my general complaint. Anyway, this is what waking up means to me.
I am aware that this is not an appealing topic.
I am an American woman with ill-fitting dentures that I take out at night. Most nights. Some nights I just leave them in.
But you aren’t supposed to leave them in. Why? Something about giving your gums a rest and not letting bacteria build up. According to The American College of Prosthodontists (ACP), the association that represents the specialty of prosthodontics: “Yes, you can wear your dentures at night, but it is preferred that they be removed. You should remove your dentures at night, and this will give your gums and bone a chance to relax from the pressure of the denture during the day. If you need to wear your dentures for social reasons or to prevent your jaws from over closing, you should find time during the day to properly clean your mouth and your prostheses. You should never wear your dentures 24 hours a day without performing proper oral hygiene. Dentures should be cleaned at night and stored in water during the night.”
So, that’s a no, yes? My guy in Fallon said to take them out . . . (he never mentioned unless I needed to keep them in for “social reasons” or to avoid over-closing jaws) . . . more on that later.
So, I usually take them out. Then—I wake up in the morning feeling like my face is a sad stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway after a torrential downpour. Part of me is washed away.

By now, some readers might be thinking (in addition to oh dear lord please stop), what about implants?
When I inquired about the cost of implants, I was given the “ballpark” figure of $40,000. “It’s like buying a car,” my Fallon guy said. Indeed. And I would be the first person to say that I’d much rather have a complete set of permanent teeth than a new car. Absolutely! But that’s false equivalency; it isn’t a choice between teeth and a car. Not at all. There’s no money for either of those things. I was lucky to be able to scrape the money together for the dentures, which came to something closer to $4,000 (including the cost of the extraction of my “unsavable” natural teeth). I drive a car that I bought used 10 years ago for much less than $40,000 and have managed to pay off. So I’m not in the market for a new car, and implants were never going to happen.
This breaks my heart, and it also angers me. Why is dental care so difficult to attain? Is it because of a general American lack of concern for healthcare for its citizens overall? Is it because I am lazy and do not deserve teeth? I mean, I have a job. I’ve always had jobs, but some of them (at peak important dental crisis periods), didn’t include dental insurance. If I had been born into a wealthy family, or perhaps if I had been born in a different country, would I still have my teeth? I don’t know. Certainly, lifelong, consistent dental care could have saved me some of my dental losses. I remember having a tooth pulled when I was in my twenties that could have been saved if I’d had the money for a root canal and a crown.
I’d like to hear about the experiences of people from other places. Is this something that happens to many of my peers, but I just don’t know about it because it is humiliating, and no one dares speak of it? And what about people who lose their teeth to accidents or illness? What recourse do they have?

I know there are people suffering much more in places that are much worse. I know that many people of my parents’ generation wore dentures for much of their adult lives, and I don’t remember hearing much grumbling about it, perhaps another reason that their designation as The Greatest Generation is so apt. My parents survived The Great Depression, they fought in World War II (Dad was a Marine in the Pacific) or supplied the troops (Mom worked in an airplane factory), they ballroom danced like athletes, swinging with The Big Bands, and they never complained. Perhaps part of the saying about keeping a stiff upper lip comes from their ability to hide their discomfort about dentures? I don’t know, but I admire them for it.
Does that mean I should just embrace my toothlessness? I mean, my parents weren’t crying about it. And if I should embrace my loss, how, exactly, do I do that?
I miss my teeth. I miss my smile. Like Elf, I love to smile. Smiling is my favorite.

Also, I can’t eat numerous foods that I love. This includes crispy raw vegetables and taco shells and chewy candy—the obvious things—but also many others like pizza or sandwiches or good crusty bread. Believe me, dentures do not allow it.
Again, I could be wrong. According to The American College of Prosthodontists, “Most patients need to learn how to use dentures properly and as a result, it takes a little time to get used to them. After a while, you should be able to eat fairly normally, but it may take more time to get comfortable with harder foods or sticky foods. Using a small amount of denture adhesive (no more than three or four pea-sized dabs on each denture) may help stabilize the dentures and help hold them in place while you learn how to get comfortable with them and may make the learning process easier.”
“Fairly” is one of the key words in that paragraph. Fairly normally seems to include scrambled eggs, overcooked vegetables, soup, cooked cereals such as cream of wheat, mashed potatoes (a high point), and pudding. Oh! and thank goodness, ice cream is still an option.
Perhaps I struggle with eating because my dentures are particularly ill-fitting compared to others. This I don’t know. What I do know is that they fall out, they move around, and they whistle occasionally (something I could never accomplish before, that, no, I am not grateful for).
I also know that the denture adhesives help a bit, but the downside of using them includes the overflow stickiness that can make it impossible to move parts of my lips at times. True, I use more than the American College of Prosthodontists’ advised “three or four pea-sized dabs.” That’s because three or four pea-sized dabs do absolutely nothing!
Also, said stickiness, which isn’t sticky enough to stop the dentures from moving around during everyday activities like talking and eating, is somehow too sticky to allow its removal at the end of the day. The only way to get most of the adhesive off I’ve found is to scrape my gums and the roof of my mouth vigorously with one dry paper towel after another until I am sore and gagging and my husband has left the room.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention that many dental adhesives contain zinc, and though a certain amount of zinc is recommended, and is usually sourced from a regular diet, digesting extra zinc via the adhesive breaking down and being swallowed can mean that the denture wearer using adhesives with zinc may experience health issues. Excess “oral zinc can cause copper deficiency, and zinc contained in dental adhesives may thus cause hypocupraemia.” [Prasad R, Hawthorne B, Durai D, McDowell I. Zinc in denture adhesive: a rare cause of copper deficiency in a patient on home parenteral nutrition. BMJ Case Rep. 2015 Oct 9;2015:bcr2015211390. doi: 10.1136/bcr-2015-211390. PMID: 26452740; PMCID: PMC4600814]
The good news here is that I’ve just done a search and discovered there are many varieties of dental adhesive currently on the market that are zinc free. This was a welcome surprise! Examples include: Secure Waterproof Denture Adhesive – Zinc Free, Extra Strong 12 Hour Hold Super Poligrip, and Effergrip Zinc Free Denture and Partials Adhesive Cream Extra Strong Denture Adhesive Cream, Zinc Free.
This bit of happy news, you might hope, will conclude my treatise on the sorrows and lessons of dentures, but I would be remiss if I did not mention . . ..
Intimacy in the bedroom at night on the rare occasion my spouse and I are both awake past eight o’clock. I think this must be one of the unmentionable “social reasons” cited by the American College of Prosthodontists. Alas, my post-natural-teeth desirability rating has fallen. I was never a supermodel, but I was the woman who never went without mascara or lipstick, who shaved her legs every day, and did everything possible within my budget to remain healthy and attractive.
Perhaps I’m being punished for my “vanity.”
I lost my teeth because I tried too hard?
I don’t think so. Mostly because it was never vanity to begin with. It was insecurity. Or, it was being a woman and knowing how women were judged. It may have been many things, but whatever sad mid-century thing it was, it was certainly never vanity.

But, hey. I’ve been up for hours now. I’ve put myself back together. Therefore, the only things I have left to worry about for the rest of today are: The state of current affairs. My missed visit to my family. Medical bills. Owing the IRS. More stray kittens needing to go to the veterinarian. The car that suddenly broke down.
Never mind.
I’m going to make a nice dinner and have a glass of wine. Some nice, homemade, soft and easy-to-chew food. Maybe soup? And a chilled Chardonnay. Definitely, a chilled Chardonnay.
After all, what do I have to worry about? What do any of us?
The mornings are the worst.





