The Tooth, The Whole Tooth, and Nothing but the Tooth

Or, bits and parts of it, anyway.


Four days off work to myself. Things to get caught up on, old papers to read, movies to watch.


How did I accomplish this? Just by having a little lovely dental surgery.



The lone wisdom tooth left in my mouth has finally made its way OUT, OUT, OUT, courtesy of my dentist, who, incidentally, is THE best dentist in the world. That sucker of a tooth has been hanging over my head and laying totally on its side, impacted in the bone, all these years. My dentist and I had decided it would be the "end of the line" after all the other necessary work had been done, spanning decades, innumerable extractions, veneers, crowns, root canals, etc. The other three wisdoms had been extracted, and, as far as wisdoms go, really no big deal. And at my visit in early September after he had redone two OLD crowns that needed updating, and a cleaning, he said "Okay, we're here." I had never heard such sweeter words. We were really DONE. Except for this one lazy tooth that refused to move. EVER. We had saved it for last because it would be the most involved. So, I said, "Let's do it to it" and proceeded to make an appointment for one major oral surgery. My dentist used sedation and gas, neither of which I had experienced for a long time, and wham, bam, thank you ma'am, after much breaking , cutting, and pulling the stubborn little SOB out in bits and pieces (the tooth, not the dentist), we were done. That was it. GONE. Finally. I slept nearly all day yesterday after arriving home after bragging to him that I didn't feel the least bit drowsy or hung-over, although I was glad that I followed his instructions to bring my dad to drive me home. So, I felt some pain but not too terrible after arriving home, but once I hit my bed to take a small nap (my dentist is in Crosby, by the way, hence a long drive there and back), I proceeded to sleep until 1 a.m. Guess those drugs did kick in after all.





So is my dentist a little like Steve Martin ("Little Shop of Horrors?") Mmmmm....maybe. He can be a sort of "Wild and Crazy Guy!" But GAWD I love Steve Martin. My dentist and I, we are almost like two peas in a pod. After nearly twenty years together, we know each other well, and who wouldn't love getting dental work done listening to the most soothing voice telling his patient of remembrances of college days, of seeing Sonny and Cher, the Lovin' Spoonful, etc. before they hit the big time? Of his travels to the Great Wall of China and Mexico? Of his brave story of beating renal cancer ten years ago against all odds? I would actually go TO the Great Wall of China for him, but I guess Crosby is good enough. He just left me looking like a little one-sided chipmunk. Wonder if they have those in China?

So now all that is left is routine cleanings and perhaps a professional whitening if I desire later. He said the next time he sees me it will be for lunch. No crises, no hard work. Just...enjoyment. The talk of supernumerary teeth is gone, no long-term plans, no big deals anymore. Just a more "normal" relationship. That's the nicest thing of all.

Except the "liquid diet" thing. At least a couple days after, I can't get any food caught in the big hole and stitches, lest I mess up the bone graft and clot that was put in; healing is most important above all. I have drank buillon, soda, coffee, snuck a little pudding. But I'm sure Steve Martin "the dentist" would understand......FEED ME! I'M HUNGRY!!!! Git me some LUNCH!!!!!

Noooooooooooo!!!!!!! NOT THE DENTIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!