You’d think given all of the medical hoops I’ve jumped through in life, I’d be a tough cookie. You’d think that, but you’d be wrong. I’m a wimp. Just ask Dr. Merideth.
And this week required me to overcome my wimpy self once again and FINALLY get to a dentist.
We won’t mention how long it’s been. It’s been even longer than I had thought – and that was a long time.
The problem is a few months ago half of one of my teeth just crumbled. It was a baby tooth that in 35 years had never managed to fall out of my head. So, I guess that’s not so bad. The problem is the adult tooth is hidden in the roof of my mouth, dead. It never pushed the baby tooth out.
Several years ago I got a long lecture from a dentist about how important this problem was, and how I needed to have the baby tooth pulled, have braces put in (I’ve needed braces since I was a kid) and then have a chain attached to the adult tooth in the roof of my mouth so that eventually the pressure of the moving teeth would somehow bring it down to where it’s supposed to be.
Just imagining how this little project would be executed was more than I really wanted to know about it.
I never did anything about it. I did get an estimate for the cost (and this was nearly 10 years ago) – the reply was about $6,000. “It will be more expensive to deal with later if you don’t do something about it,” the dentist had said.
Tell that to my bowels, or my lungs or whatever else has been eating a hole in my wallet like acid. It isn’t that I don’t think teeth are important – they’ve just got to get in line behind the more vital organs of the body.
And that’s partly why I haven’t been to the dentist in so long. It’s another afternoon off work. Another cab fare. Another copay. I miss so much work as it is and spend so much of my income on my health that something that didn’t seem as mission critical, sort of speak, just took a back seat.
That is until the tooth chipped.
It didn’t hurt. But food was getting stuck in the space between the crumbling tooth and the perfectly healthy adult tooth. I was worried I’d do more damage to the surrounding teeth if I didn’t do something, an idea that was confirmed by the dentist.
So, I had to do something.
Of course, like everything in my life, getting a tooth pulled, even just a little baby tooth, instantly became more complicated than anyone would have anticipated.
The dentist, fully aware of my Hermansky-Pudlak Syndrome, wasn’t very concerned about bleeding. The root was shallow and he estimated the bleeding to be something akin to scraping your arm. I wasn’t too concerned either. I’ve had teeth removed before with little trouble (except my wisdom teeth that required platelet transfusions). I did a little nasal DDAVP, although I don’t know if it really made a difference.
To be honest, I was much more worried about laying back in the dentist chair. My acid reflux has been so bad lately that any time I’m not sitting up I’m having trouble.
So, I carefully timed eating that morning, and the reflux medications, to be as sure as possible there’d be no acid to come up while the dentist had his hand in my mouth. Mission was accomplished.
Surprisingly, it didn’t even hurt that badly. I was really amazed at that. The worst part was that the tooth had become fused to the rest of the bone – probably why it never fell out – and thus turned out to require quite a little bit of elbow grease on the part of the dentist with the accompanying sounds of crushing bone. Yikes!
I kept waiting for the really bad pain to kick in, but it never did.
What can I say, I don’t trust dentists.
As a kid I went to military dentists. Yes, I needed braces, but I didn’t get them. The reason was I got written up as an “uncooperative patient.”
Ironically enough, I was having a tooth pulled. I asked if it was going to hurt, and the dentist gave the usual, “Oh no, it won’t hurt,” response.
Well, it did hurt. It hurt a lot actually!
Without even realizing what I was doing I bit down and got the dentist’s finger pretty good. He was mad. He went and got my mom and chewed her out for having such an uncooperative child.
Mom asked me to apologize to the dentist. I refused. I didn’t see why I should be the one saying I’m sorry. He’s the one that lied.
And so, as punishment I was condemned to a lifetime of crooked teeth.
And this week required me to overcome my wimpy self once again and FINALLY get to a dentist.
We won’t mention how long it’s been. It’s been even longer than I had thought – and that was a long time.
The problem is a few months ago half of one of my teeth just crumbled. It was a baby tooth that in 35 years had never managed to fall out of my head. So, I guess that’s not so bad. The problem is the adult tooth is hidden in the roof of my mouth, dead. It never pushed the baby tooth out.
Several years ago I got a long lecture from a dentist about how important this problem was, and how I needed to have the baby tooth pulled, have braces put in (I’ve needed braces since I was a kid) and then have a chain attached to the adult tooth in the roof of my mouth so that eventually the pressure of the moving teeth would somehow bring it down to where it’s supposed to be.
Just imagining how this little project would be executed was more than I really wanted to know about it.
I never did anything about it. I did get an estimate for the cost (and this was nearly 10 years ago) – the reply was about $6,000. “It will be more expensive to deal with later if you don’t do something about it,” the dentist had said.
Tell that to my bowels, or my lungs or whatever else has been eating a hole in my wallet like acid. It isn’t that I don’t think teeth are important – they’ve just got to get in line behind the more vital organs of the body.
And that’s partly why I haven’t been to the dentist in so long. It’s another afternoon off work. Another cab fare. Another copay. I miss so much work as it is and spend so much of my income on my health that something that didn’t seem as mission critical, sort of speak, just took a back seat.
That is until the tooth chipped.
It didn’t hurt. But food was getting stuck in the space between the crumbling tooth and the perfectly healthy adult tooth. I was worried I’d do more damage to the surrounding teeth if I didn’t do something, an idea that was confirmed by the dentist.
So, I had to do something.
Of course, like everything in my life, getting a tooth pulled, even just a little baby tooth, instantly became more complicated than anyone would have anticipated.
The dentist, fully aware of my Hermansky-Pudlak Syndrome, wasn’t very concerned about bleeding. The root was shallow and he estimated the bleeding to be something akin to scraping your arm. I wasn’t too concerned either. I’ve had teeth removed before with little trouble (except my wisdom teeth that required platelet transfusions). I did a little nasal DDAVP, although I don’t know if it really made a difference.
To be honest, I was much more worried about laying back in the dentist chair. My acid reflux has been so bad lately that any time I’m not sitting up I’m having trouble.
So, I carefully timed eating that morning, and the reflux medications, to be as sure as possible there’d be no acid to come up while the dentist had his hand in my mouth. Mission was accomplished.
Surprisingly, it didn’t even hurt that badly. I was really amazed at that. The worst part was that the tooth had become fused to the rest of the bone – probably why it never fell out – and thus turned out to require quite a little bit of elbow grease on the part of the dentist with the accompanying sounds of crushing bone. Yikes!
I kept waiting for the really bad pain to kick in, but it never did.
What can I say, I don’t trust dentists.
As a kid I went to military dentists. Yes, I needed braces, but I didn’t get them. The reason was I got written up as an “uncooperative patient.”
Ironically enough, I was having a tooth pulled. I asked if it was going to hurt, and the dentist gave the usual, “Oh no, it won’t hurt,” response.
Well, it did hurt. It hurt a lot actually!
Without even realizing what I was doing I bit down and got the dentist’s finger pretty good. He was mad. He went and got my mom and chewed her out for having such an uncooperative child.
Mom asked me to apologize to the dentist. I refused. I didn’t see why I should be the one saying I’m sorry. He’s the one that lied.
And so, as punishment I was condemned to a lifetime of crooked teeth.
Comments