An ad came up for something called a
Dental Repair Beads Kit. I almost kept scrolling. It looked too simple.
Too cheap.
I was convinced it was one of those things that sounds good and does nothing.
I clicked anyway. I read every review twice. Then I ordered it, fully expecting to be disappointed.
Hot water, soft translucent beads, shaped with my fingers, hardened in minutes. Third attempt — I stood at my mirror and it looked like my tooth. I cried in my bathroom at midnight about a jar of beads.
The next morning I turned my camera on for the nine o'clock call without thinking about it.
"Seven months I lost. I wish someone had told me this existed in month one."