It becomes real when my jaw throbs or the stitches begin dangling from my gums. I still pinch myself that for an entire week, I reclined in a dental chair, each day receiving invasive and often times nerve-racking procedures. Again, I do not like dentists. I do not like anything that has to do with walking into that office, but I must say, the experience changed me. Their (the staff at Meza Dental) level of authenticity changed me. And that is where I will search for the story.
The story has become more than one of medical tourism, although that is a major part. It has become one of change, faith, trust. My story goes way beyond a dental chair.
One week home and I'm learning the benefit of luke-warm soup. I have yet to wear my partial - even for the striking new DMV photo for a renewed driver's license - because there's swelling, and well, I try to avoid pain as best I can.
I'm still on a diet of soft and cold foods. Yogurt and smoothies are my friends. I avoid Five Guys commercials. I have dreams of wallering in waist-high burgers smothered in jalapenos. I promise, it's my first stop once this mouth returns to normal.
It's not been a bad first week. Very little need for pain meds. Nighttime seems to be the hardest (isn't it always!) Some adjustment needed, but otherwise, life is rolling on as it should.
For the next two weekends, we're working weddings. Partial goes in; slurred words come out. Len will take over my voice, and will, more than likely much to his chagrin, understand the value of my pointing.
Other than burgers, I dream of the changes that will be taking place over the next few months. Like I said, my story is so much more than just teeth.
so you know . . .
For more information on the Medical Tourism Association, visit their website.