I'm a goner. They didn't tell me how long I've got to live. I hope it's not too painful. But when a doctor tells you it's trouble, then you're done. They didn't have to be so grim about it, but they did have to let me know the horrible news. I've got gum disease.
I know, I know. Thanks for all your sympathy. I appreciate it. It's probably one of the worst of all diseases, and the hygienists were certainly very very very concerned about it, but I know I must accept it and accept my fate.
The doctor told me I've got maybe, maybe another 20 years before a tooth falls out. I know. I know. It's horrific. I know. But at least knowing, well, that's half the battle. The dental team researched my case long and hard (possibly over 12 minutes at the very least) and they couldn't come up with any possible explanation for the state of my gums. I was quick to point out that I did all I could: Brushing often, flossing nightly, even using mouthwash. They were convinced my hard-livin ways were to blame, but I eventually told them I've got bad genes.
They've given me one final chance to make it through. Gave me a referral to see a periodontal specialist. It's my only hope. Keep me in your prayers, if you please.