I write about my health because….

Posted on April 7, 2011 in Bipolar Disorder Dentition Reflections

I write about my health because information is power. And I have the information. But information is worthless if it is not known. So I put what I know out to the world for others so that they might have the power I have obtained by observing my illness closely.

I have several conditions. Most recently, I had a section of my gum and bone around one of my rear molars trimmed. This procedure, called crown-lengthening is meant to give my dentist more purchase when he fashions a new covering for the tooth recently emptied of its pulp by a root canal. My periodontist, Dr. Marlene Miller, buzzed, scraped, and stitched a quarter-inch long segment. The ordeal was over in less than half an hour. When I look in to see what was mauled, I see two neat black loops along the bottom of the tooth. These will melt away in a few days. In the meantime, to keep the pain down, I am consuming [[Tylenol]] and [[Indomethacin]] (to reduce the inflammation).

My teeth have been the source of the greatest physical pain if one discounts as spiritual the depression and anxiety engendered by the [[bipolar disorder]]. The latter precipitated the former because I was consumed by the crazy idea that my teeth were ugly. When I was a baby, I was given [[tetracycline]] before it was known that it would stain my permanent teeth. Among the names kids called me was “Yellow Teeth”. I didn’t brush them, at first, because I thought it was hopeless. At sixteen years of age, I had my first [[root canal]]. The second followed three years later. (Both teeth are now gone, their places occupied by [[dental implants]].)

A new idea consumed me after a visit with a dentist who called for a dramatic overhaul of my mouth through a combination of breaking my jaw and grinding down my teeth. He called it a “dental disaster” and that phrase stuck in my mind. I felt hopeless, unable to move on because it would cost me tens of thousands of dollars to fix. I cried a lot after this. I let my teeth disintegrate until a descent into severe depression. As a condition of my recovery, I had to face what was wrong with my mouth. This meant first dealing with the multitude of root canals that afflicted me. As soon as we fixed one, then another would “go rogue” as I liked to describe it. ((I have had somewhere between sixteen and twenty root canals in the course of my life. )) Then a periodontist subjected me to “deep cleaning” which meant that he sliced my gums open and cleaned off the plaque that had collected on the roots. ((I have only met one survivor of this procedure who went through it twice. Most of us get the message the first time.)) a prosthodonist finished the procedure by capping my 28 remaining teeth. Eventually, my oldest two root canals went bad and I needed the implants.

So imagine where I was for many years. Constant pain in my mouth that I tried to ignore. Who knows what this did to my mood, what effect it had on my diet? I know that I gained weight once my teeth were fixed. ((And I am still working on losing it.)) In the end, I had beautiful teeth, but my brain was ruined by the bipolar disorder. Three years of work resulted in “movie star teeth” which have been largely wasted due to [[paranoia]].

I write in part to make connections — here, between my teeth and my bipolar disorder. Elsewhere between my heart and my [[diabetes]], my [[asthma]] and my anxiety. ((My father once told me that my asthma was [[psychosomatic]]. This was the thinking of the time. Some still believe it.)) I have yet to develop a comprehensive account of my body and it is towards this ending my writing endeavors — or maybe toward the truth that there are many cycles affecting my body, ropes that just happen to knot together in the place of pain but otherwise have nothing to do with each other. But maybe you will see yourself here. I do this for me, but I have no qualms if you find something for yourself here, too. I am not selfish. Accept my sharing if it helps.

This post is in response to Day 6 of the Health Activist Writers Challenge: “I write about my health because…”