I've been spending a fair amount time in the dentists chair these days. Trying to deal with a mouthful of problems and a decades of neglect.
Two appointments yesterday. First appt. to remove the protective pack from the pocket reduction surgery and remove stitches from the gum job and bone graft I endured last week. The afternoon appointment was to deal with a newly broken tooth on the side. I'm impressed with the quality of care I receive at the UCLA School of Dentistry. . . . and the price.
It doesn't make it any easier. There's a reason I hadn't been to the dentist in years. . . they scare the hell out of me. There I said it. "Hi, my name is Tom. . . and I'm a Pussy". . . "Hi Tom!"
The gum surgery was, as aggressive a dental procedure I ever had the bad fortune to deserve. Sure I had the nitrus going and the ipod in my ears. . . but let me tell you the sound of scrapping bone ringing in your ears in enough to drive you crazy.
I get my self so worked up before, during and after. It's not rational. Not wanting multiple shots in the roof of your mouth. . . OK, that's rational. But wigging out even though I can't feel pain. . . that's something I'd like to work on.
After many visits of drilling, removing decay and older cracked fillings, my mouth is finally decay free. Many of the teeth have medicated temporary fillings but it looks good that only one them will need a root canal. Now that the leg work is done, we will begin rebuilding. I need a bunch of crowns and 1 implant. Oy! I'm not sure what it will look like when were all done, but I'm hoping for a new smile. . . . a winning smile. 25 years of cigar smoking can be rough on the look of teeth. Trust me, I've never taken such good care of my teeth as now.