Yesterday I had my first dentist appointment in over two years. They took x-rays and gave my teeth a cleaning. The x-rays showed five cavities, which my dentist will drill and fill on May 1, provided my hematologist/oncologist approves of an invasive procedure being done on me. I'm fairly sure that he'll approve because the consequences of leaving cavities uncorrected could be far more dangerous than doing some drilling. Besides, my white blood cell count has been doing well lately, so there should be a minimum of risk.
The cavities have probably been there for at least a year, although they were probably smaller then. As some of you know, I spent about 10 months of 2006 at Hershey Medical Center recovering from a bone marrow transplant. During most of that time I was either too tired or too sick to get out of bed to brush my teeth. I should have tried to brush my teeth anyway, but often I just didn't have the strength to stand at the sink that long. Taking good care of your teeth after a cavity has set in doesn't help much, so all the brushing and flossing I've done since coming home may have prevented new cavities, but the old decay wasn't reversed by my good dental hygiene.
I expected my dentist to find at least one cavity, because I've been having rather bad pain in one tooth whenever something cold touches it. This pain has been occurring for about four months now. I called my dentist right away when the pain started, but she didn't have any appointments available until yesterday. I suppose I should have seen my dentist when I started feeling stronger about nine months ago, but drilling cavities back then would have been a much more serious procedure than it will be now. The chronic neutropenia (dangerously low immunities) I had until this past December would have made drilling cavities a major infection risk without first having a series of Neupogen or Neulasta injections to artificially raise my immunities. You probably wouldn't believe how much just one of these shots costs; when I was told for the first time I couldn't believe it. Because of the expense, doctors usually only order them when the risks to your health are severe. But based on my current lab test results, I think my dentist can now drill safely.
My dentist told me that I won't need to have any root canals or to have any teeth pulled, which I'm sure will be a relief to my hematologist/oncologist. I'm pretty happy about it myself. I'm also glad this dental work could wait until my health allowed the work to be done. I plan to be extra diligent in caring for my teeth from now on, even if I don't feel up to it in the future, because I know I will not enjoy having these five cavities drilled.
Take away a nine year old boy's action toys and you'll have a sulking child. At this age, my favorite store-bought action game was called "Battling Tops," which may not be familiar to you. This was 37 years ago, after all. Could they possibly still make this game? In case they don't, I'll give you a quick description of it. The game had a round, concave, arena-like playing area with four player stations at equal distances around the perimeter. The playing pieces were four plastic tops, several inches high. Each player got one top and a small plastic ring with a length of thread attached to it. The ring fit over the player's index finger and the thread wrapped tightly around a top quite a few times. The top was then placed in the player's station, which was designed to hold the top steady until the game began. All players pulled their rings at the same time, causing the tops to spin furiously in the concave playing area. From this point on, all the players could do was watch and hope. The tops would whack repeatedly into each other, making a surprising amount of noise, until all the tops except one either fell over or were flung out of the arena, often at impressive speeds. The winner was the player who had the last top still spinning. 
When I was 10 years old, my favorite cartoon was an action-packed thriller called Jonny Quest. Unlike any other cartoon, the considerable violence on this program was realistic: not graphic, but definitely far more believable than Bugs Bunny/Road Runner pseudo-violence. Bad guys usually met with swift and imaginative deaths. I wasn't interested in seeing anyone die, but I loved the high level of action. I also loved the realistic detail of the animation. 
When I was seven years old, my family moved to a suburb of Chicago. Our new home was modest, pleasant, and agreeable in every way, except that it was located under a high-traffic, low-altitude approach path to O'Hare Airport. At first we didn't like the constant noise from the jet engines, but surprisingly, we adjusted to it quickly. Somehow we learned to tune out most of the constant roaring.
Like many eight-year-old boys, I loved dinosaurs. I didn't have any dinosaurtoys or action figures, which my parents probably would have bought for me if it had ever occurred to me to ask for any. Instead, I spent hours memorizing every available fact and theory about these ancient reptiles. My information was provided by many oversized, heavily illustrated books produced for my age group, which my Dad did buy for me. 
