I experienced a rite of passage, ushering in a even newer layer thinking about life.
I went to the dentist to inquire about something in my mouth that was not clearing up. After Magic Mary's Mouthwash didn't touch it, he sent me to an oral surgeon.
After making an appointment and arriving on time, there I sat in the oral surgeon's waiting room. By now, some depression had sunk in. What would he say? How would I react?
To understand fully this situation, you must know that my Mother had died of oral cancer. She never drank. She never smoked. So, everyone was really surprised when it showed up. I spent many an hour wondering about how she contracted oral cancer. Was it something she ate? Was it the toothpaste? Sodas? What was it?
A couple of years ago, I finally found what I believe to be the answer. Somewhere deep inside my gut I knew exactly what it was, but it took time for it to surface from my subconscious to my conscious. By now, I am rather educated on oral cancer. One of the biggest causes is smoking. The carcinogens in cigarettes are one of the main causes. But my Mother never smoked... Smoke... Smoke... Smoke... Could it be?
Behold, I found my answer through a simple Google search. Smoke from wood fires. My Mother worked around a lot of wood fires. Breathing in its smoke almost on a daily basis. Smoke from wood fires contain the same amount, and even more, of carcinogens as cigarettes and, in some cases, a vast number of harmful chemicals. At last, I had found some piece of mind.
And now, here I sat in an oral surgeon's office for an initial exam of something in my mouth. To say I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown is an understatement. Not only was on the verge, but I was extremely on edge. Ready to cry... and cry.... and cry... Your body that you control, and yet have little control over, can be cruel not matter how you treat it.
Within a few moments of my arrival, the assistant came and got me, led me to a typical dentist work area, where I sat in a blue vinyl chair with a typical paper bib. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Finally, I closed my eyes and took myself to my happy place. I had to. I needed to. Floated away from reality into my fantasy world. I had an epiphany about why people use drugs, alcohol, and other abusive habits -- Escape. Get away. Run away.
Ten minutes passed when the oral surgeon arrived. He was a tall middle-aged man. Blue scrubs. Salt and pepper hair. Glasses. We talked. I told him about my Mother, smoking, drinking, and wood fires. And then it was time to open wide. I had already done some research and looked at hundreds of photos via Google images to see if I could find some peace of mind. As you can imagine, I saw a lot, fretted a lot, and got scared a lot.
It's natural. It's part of what happens when you feel like you are losing control.
It's not oral cancer... It's not oral cancer... You don't smoke. You rarely drink. And more importantly, you don't work around smoky fires. Over and over those words went through my head right up to the moment, he pulled out his wooden Popsicle stick and said...
"I'm pretty sure it's what they call oral lichen planus," he announced. "It's benign. We'll do a biopsy to confirm, just in case."
I already knew all about OLP. It's going to be more of an annoyance than anything else.
CSM
I went to the dentist to inquire about something in my mouth that was not clearing up. After Magic Mary's Mouthwash didn't touch it, he sent me to an oral surgeon.
After making an appointment and arriving on time, there I sat in the oral surgeon's waiting room. By now, some depression had sunk in. What would he say? How would I react?
To understand fully this situation, you must know that my Mother had died of oral cancer. She never drank. She never smoked. So, everyone was really surprised when it showed up. I spent many an hour wondering about how she contracted oral cancer. Was it something she ate? Was it the toothpaste? Sodas? What was it?
A couple of years ago, I finally found what I believe to be the answer. Somewhere deep inside my gut I knew exactly what it was, but it took time for it to surface from my subconscious to my conscious. By now, I am rather educated on oral cancer. One of the biggest causes is smoking. The carcinogens in cigarettes are one of the main causes. But my Mother never smoked... Smoke... Smoke... Smoke... Could it be?
Behold, I found my answer through a simple Google search. Smoke from wood fires. My Mother worked around a lot of wood fires. Breathing in its smoke almost on a daily basis. Smoke from wood fires contain the same amount, and even more, of carcinogens as cigarettes and, in some cases, a vast number of harmful chemicals. At last, I had found some piece of mind.
And now, here I sat in an oral surgeon's office for an initial exam of something in my mouth. To say I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown is an understatement. Not only was on the verge, but I was extremely on edge. Ready to cry... and cry.... and cry... Your body that you control, and yet have little control over, can be cruel not matter how you treat it.
Within a few moments of my arrival, the assistant came and got me, led me to a typical dentist work area, where I sat in a blue vinyl chair with a typical paper bib. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Finally, I closed my eyes and took myself to my happy place. I had to. I needed to. Floated away from reality into my fantasy world. I had an epiphany about why people use drugs, alcohol, and other abusive habits -- Escape. Get away. Run away.
Ten minutes passed when the oral surgeon arrived. He was a tall middle-aged man. Blue scrubs. Salt and pepper hair. Glasses. We talked. I told him about my Mother, smoking, drinking, and wood fires. And then it was time to open wide. I had already done some research and looked at hundreds of photos via Google images to see if I could find some peace of mind. As you can imagine, I saw a lot, fretted a lot, and got scared a lot.
It's natural. It's part of what happens when you feel like you are losing control.
It's not oral cancer... It's not oral cancer... You don't smoke. You rarely drink. And more importantly, you don't work around smoky fires. Over and over those words went through my head right up to the moment, he pulled out his wooden Popsicle stick and said...
"I'm pretty sure it's what they call oral lichen planus," he announced. "It's benign. We'll do a biopsy to confirm, just in case."
I already knew all about OLP. It's going to be more of an annoyance than anything else.
CSM
Relief, I know. Cancer sucks.
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