If there is one thing that I understand, it is the value of having enough molars to chew food. I inherited a lousy genetic dental legacy. Short, soft, pitted teeth coupled with abominable hygiene made me a regular customer in the dental chair from the beginning.
Good thing Daddy-O was a dentist. We weren't much for preventative as much as putting out fires. It wasn't a matter of IF I would be getting root canals as much as WHEN they would be happening.
Braces made them straight. Bridges filled in the gaps as I slowly lost my working molars. I even had a root canal post and core crown fall right out of my skull when I was working in Argentina as a missionary.
That trip to the dentist was an adventure.
I graduated to needing partial dentures in my forties.
And now we are at the point where I need reconstruction. When you lose your teeth you lose the bone that held them in place. If you want to have implants, they need something to grab on to and my bone has been disappearing for years.
Cue the full mouth reconstruction.
The best thing about moving to Florida is that I found the best prosthodontist on the planet and his office is four blocks away from my apartment. His periodontist that he partners with is just across the street from him. And so I began my multi-stage effort to build a new foundation for the next half century of my life.
Teeth are emotional. Losing my own has made me feel like a big fat failure, ugly, unworthy and frustrated. It also makes you lose a giant part of your life that gives you sensory feedback. Food is so much more than nutrition.
So we are half way through this project. My bottom teeth are all done. they are all restored at once. They all look the same and work like a dream. I thrill every day when I floss and care for them.
The upstairs half is another story. I only have six little stumps left....poor things. They look so sad and half useless when I have my temporaries off. Lonely little guys. The project right now is making new bone so we can give them some friends. That means surgery.
Monday I had a double sinus lift and ridge augmentation. It was a long surgery but a successful one. The funny part is that the doctor gives me Versed as a sedative. IV goes in, he gives me an injection and I am conscious for the whole procedure but without any memory of any of it.
I answered the questions during the surgery and after. My husband shows up to pick me up, gets me to the car, gets me to the apartment and I have no memory of it. I missed most of the day. It was the wildest thing ever. All of these details that I cannot remember. Don't get me wrong, I did not want to remember the trauma of the doctor hammering and chiseling away at my jaw.
The aftermath:
My face looks like a pumpkin. Better said, I look EXACTLY like Droopy the Dog. Giant puffy cheeks, drooling blood, nosebleeds whenever I bent over and lots of pain and soreness.
Two days out was the worst of it. Just like delayed onset soreness from a workout. Good thing that was my first day of class for graduate school!! I rocked my chipmunk cheeks for my classmates and rocked an icepack during class. Sooooo classy!
It was also our 26th wedding anniversary. No ability to chew food so I cranked out mashed potatoes and Guy grabbed a key lime pie. We feasted at home. Celebrations will have to wait till later.
In the end, all I feel is gratitude. We have the means to give me new teeth. It is a substantial investment. It is giving me a second lease on life and a way to restore me to myself. I'm grateful to try again and give myself the care, love, and attention that I need to live my life well. My partner is my prince who understands what this means to me and wants to help me have what I need.
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