Dental Visit

 

Dental visit January 14, 2013, seven months before my I found out I had prostate cancer

Yesterday I had my quarterly dental checkup. 

Always painful experience.

Usually just cleaning my teeth but at my age some of my gums are very sensitive. This time my dental hygienist (whom I like very much should she read this), applied some local anesthesia to that tender gum which helped a lot. 

Before she began cleaning my teeth she asked me the usual question I'm always asked now when I visit my regular checkup appointments with my doctors be they my cardiologist, pediatrician, urologist, dermatologist or my longtime primary care doctor at the VA. They ask "Any changes in your medical condition or prescriptions since the last time we visited?" Automatically I almost began with usual answer "No" but this time I caught myself and said "As a matter of fact there is" and I began telling her about the probable return of my prostate cancer. I also told her I wasn't going to have any treatment to delay the spread of that cancer should that fact be confirmed when I have my PET-SCAN this June.

Of course she was a bit taken aback but when I told her how old I was (she said "You don't look that old", thanks!) and there wasn't much point in delaying my eventual departure from this life. Most of my friends are gone and I have no immediate family who cares one way or the other about me, they're under the influence of my one surviving MAGA brother who I stopped speaking to over three years ago when he was screaming at me over the phone that George Floyd killed himself. Long sentence there, sorry about that.

I think she understood my reasoning. I also reminded her that we all have a "date" reserved for us when we take that Final Trip. She's young but she understood that. I told her I'm ready. I don't need to be physically tortured anymore in my life with instruments, radiation and medicines to gain a few more months of a physical existence that is already compromised by my eighty four year old body. I can't do much of what I could do twenty or even ten years ago and I certainly don't want to go out like Bill did, blind, weak, confused and in great discomfort. She agreed this was my decision and mine along. I told her that once I get a diagnosis of six months or less to live, I'm "pushing the button" which I demonstrated to her with my right forefinger on that little dental tray that holds her instruments right next to my head. I also told her that Delaware has a Right To Die Law that is in effect now (she wasn't aware) and that I intend to use it should I come to that point. 

The only person I feel bad for is Pat. I love him and he loves me but he is quite comfortable living apart from me (he lives in Canada, we talk daily by FaceTime and he visits me a couple times a year). I feared dying before Bill because he was so dependent on me and would have absolutely no one if I died before him. Pat has himself and his friends in Canada. Oh I'm sure he'll miss me but it's not like Bill. Pat has always lived by himself and is quite independent. He will continue to do so. Maybe move to Palm Springs which he loves.

My cleaning went well. No cavities. I told my hygienist that "In my next life I'm going to take better care of my teeth when I'm young and growing up." That made her smile. As I checked out I had to renew my dental insurance. Not surprisingly, that went up. It's now $460 a year. Covers two free cleanings and 15% off of any dental work. I doubt if I'll ever have any more dental work at my age. In fact I doubt if I'll even be back at this dentist this time next year. 

My next doctor's visit is with my primary care doctor at the VA. I'll explain my new health situation to him and ask him how he feels about signing off to my Final Journey. I want to make sure I have the right doctors who are on board with me if and when I have to make that decision. No last minute scrambling around looking for doctors. I need two of them to sign off.