Tooth Funeral

Let me start this blog off by saying I have never known (and hopefully never will know) the pain that is a root canal, but recently have helped take care of a friend who is currently living with my husband and I (due to this busted ass economy) who has entered phase 2 of the 3 step root canal process.
I didn't even really know what a root canal consisted of or why it happened until now. If KC wasn't going through the process I probably still wouldn't know that it was a result of a nerve dying in the tooth destined for the root canal and was not a result of poor dental hygiene. She was told her tooth death was most likely the result of blunt force trauma, and since she doesn't play defense for the Steelers, I've made plenty of jokes about taking it easy on the bj's with her man friend.
What I do know, without googling for results, is my friend is thoroughly traumatized.
KC,



who is obviously a pretty young lass, is convinced that she has been disfigured by having an artificial cap on the tooth that needed the root canal.
As her closest friend, I get to hear all of the dramatic monologues, sobbing and excessive staring at the tooth in the mirror. Before this procedure, I would have never considered her an exceptionally vain person. Sure. She looks at every mirror she walks past but I assumed it was to ensure she hadn't joined the ranks of the undead while she slept or some other reasonable excuse. *=-P Now, however, I know without a shadow of doubt that my friend is quite obsessed with appearances.
Don't get me wrong. I don't want to look like Rosie ODonell's long lost twin, I don't go grocery shopping in my pajamas's (at least when I'm sober)and I understand the importance of presenting yourself in a certain way.
What I'm having trouble "getting" is crying over a fucking tooth. A tooth, that you've had corrected with a cap that looks perfectly natural. A tooth that was dead anyway and would have only continued to infect your face and make you uncomfortable.
Because I don't "get" her sadness and made the comment "So, should we have funeral for it? Do you need a shoebox to put the tooth dust in so we can bury it in the back yard?" I had to listen to a full 15 minutes of all out sobbing as we drove down to Richmond, KY to spend the day with Cassie, the friend who completes our trifecta, for her birthday.
You can imagine the level of awkward associate with this.
I pretended I was choking on a piece of gum just so I could disguise my laughter because I had already been told 3 times that it "was not a laughing matter".
I wish I had video taped it so you could understand how incredibly Seinfeld that particular moment of my life was.
As it was happening I thought, I have to blog this. It might not seem as funny to readers since you really had to be there, but I just had to write this down.
I have a friend who is depressed over a tooth.
I actually heard her whisper reverently into her bathroom mirror "It's not the same without you" while staring into her mouth.
Normally I'm a hypersensitive person who is touch with her touchy feely side, however I can't hop on board with the tooth sadness. It actually makes me feel like I've taken crazy pills to even attempt to console her.
We're giving her a place to live until things calm down in her life...and she cries over her tooth. I wonder if this will be one of those things I look back on and laugh about with her later or if she'll hold a grudge until we'll old and gray and drown me in my fiber enriched beverages?
Only time will tell.
Until then, have you told your teeth you loved them today?