Teeth

A non-bike related post (I hear the cheers from my wife and family).  This will be the tale of 3 front teeth.

First, last Friday, Liam finally lost one of his front top teeth (the bottoms came out first).  But he was going to a sleep over (yes, the mother of one of his friends was insane enough to have six 6 year olds sleep over) that night, so we told him the tooth fairy only comes to his house and we'd put it under his pillow the next night.  Well, we forgot to put it under Saturday night.  Then, when it got put under Sunday night, Loren and I completely forgot, until I was reading with him Monday evening.  I lay on the bed with his pillow behind me, reached back and found the tooth, then pocketed it.  Then, I excused myself for a second, went in our room, found a Kennedy 50 cent piece and a bunch of Quarters, took them back into Liam's room, and did the same maneuver behind my back while he read aloud.  I then asked him about the tooth: he says "I didn't get anything" so I said, "are your sure?"  He got up, checked under the pillow, and was like "oh, there it is."  Bingo, I've pulled the switch.

Second, a tale about my 2 front teeth.

So, when I was 17, on an evening about this time of year, I was driving in my VW Rabbit ('79, brown) on Anna Maria Island, where I grew up. I was going to visit a teacher to work on college application essay.  Right in front of the "public beach" there was an "S" curve.  This was the only road off the island, and I had gone around these curves many times.  This time, as I went around the first part of the S (turning to my left) coming around in the opposite direction was a guy in a jeep who was very drunk (his usual state of being it turns out).  He did not start turning to his right, and so hit me head on.  We were probably doing around 25 mph.  Back then, there were no air bags and people didn't wear seat belts.  So, I smashed face first into my steering wheel, among other places, knocking out my two front teeth (technically the front right and the one next to it).

There's more to this story, like the fact that my mom was in the car in front of me and saw the whole thing happen in her rear view mirror, and the fact that the guy was a tenant of a house my mom rented (she managed rental properties, still does), or that it was his like his third DUI.  But I'll pass over those.  I wasn't knocked unconscious, but I have no memory of it to this day. 

As a result, I have had a bridge that goes from my eye teeth on either side since I was 17 (I could now tell how they had to grind down the surrounding teeth, which the bridge was then cemented too, and how my upper jaw bone was a little broken, and how the dentist had to pull forward and up when he put the bridge in, or about the 2 root canals I've had in those capped teeth, but I won't).  Apparently, my parents were told the bridge would be permanent, last for the rest of my life.  And that's what the insurance settlement was based on, or so I believe.  Well, it didn't.  Several years ago (I don't go to the dentist regularly, for obvious reasons, and yet my teeth are fine) my then dentist said that the bridge would need to be replaced because it wasn't fitting well anymore.  Plus, I chipped the porcelain on the front tooth, so it didn't look too good for the past few years.  Every year for the last several, I've sworn that I would get this taken care of.  Finally, this year, I did.

I asked around for a dentist that took our new insurance -- which sucks, absolutely pointless, I'm paying for pretty much all of it $$$$.  I got a referral to Dr. Steven Barsky.  I went and saw him, had a cleaning, and made an appointment to start the process.  Needless to say, I made the appointment for the Monday after the Race Pace race so I would have time to recover if necessary before the next race.

So, Monday I went in.  It was scheduled for all afternoon.  I'm fairly nervous because....THIS THING IS CEMENTED ON MY UNDERLYING TEETH.  He explains that they will first cut the porcelain and silver/gold, then stick some wedge into the cuts and wedge it apart, and the underlying bond will let go.  Um, ok.  So they shoot me up with Novocaine.  Ok, then they go to work.  Really, it was initially not so bad. Obviously, I can't feel them cutting the porcelain, and the wedging wasn't so bad, other than the very disconcerting cracking sounds.  But it wasn't just popping off....so he started "tapping" it with a hammer!  Ok, that was shaking my whole head, and I was literally thinking "I'm going to feel this tomorrow."  It finally came off; not so bad, and he says that he really wasn't even hitting it that hard!  Yikes.

Now, they had to "clean up" the underlying teeth.  I asked for a mirror; the assistant says "are you sure?" and I said, sure, I saw it when I was 17.  There they are, sharp little nubs, with 2 of them black from the root canal.  Really, not so bad.  The grinding was fine on the first tooth -- it was dead, no nerve, but when they got to the one that hadn't had a root canal, I let them know that I could feel it a bit.  Not terrible, but you know, that kinda cold feeling and a feeling of them drilling into my tooth.  So they put in more Novocaine (I think straight into the tooth).  They finish that up, not so bad.  Then they played around a bit with fitting the temporary replacement, then took some impressions (which is gag inducing, with thick putty threatening to drip into your throat for 3 minutes as it hardens in your mouth).

I will actually skip the significantly painful part where they put "retracting cord" under my gums before taking an impression.  Long and short, 2.5 hours later, I walked out with new temporary teeth.  Even the temporary plastic looks better than the old "permanent."  I go back for a fitting of the permanent on 11/26.

I hate going to the dentist (and Dr. Barsky's office has been outstanding).

Comments

[mega]

ARGH!!

teeth stories are icky! i can sympathize on so many levels. . .

great shots of you racing and jake with chips. . .hope the season is wrapping up nicely for you guys.

love from the north,
meg