Step 1: Get a miserable sick tooth, take two different antibiotics to kill the infection. Go to the regular dentist and then to the periodontist, who tell me the tooth, a decorated veteran of previous dental battles, has to go.
Step 2: Get the wicked thing extracted and the bridge it was holding cut down into a crown. It's amazing how well a tooth is attached and how long she has to work at it, even though it has too little bone to save.
Step 3: Wait several months for that to heal, wearing a partial thingie named Flipper (yuck).
Step 4: Implants installed (today).
Step 5: Wait another long time for that to heal and solidify, I suppose wearing Flipper.
Step 6: Crowns installed at the regular dentist, another beautiful lady who does great work. I have nothing against guy dentists - we just happen to have two gorgeous lady dentists who take care of our family! (I should do a blog sometime comparing the incredible medical care in Texas to other places I've lived. They treat you so well here! They are KIND.)
Step 7: Appreciate lovely, natural feeling teeth! Fortunately, Step 7 is the longest step. I understand implants hold up beautifully.
I am just a kid. How did I get this old?
Maybe I'll update this afternoon under the influence of a pain pill. Who knows what I'll say?
Update: All done, home again. It wasn't bad, just a long time in the chair. I'm grabbing some lunch, then a pain pill (the instructions say not to wait) and a nap. Glad I opted to be awake, which will allow me to enjoy my afternoon at home. I'll have a busy day at work tomorrow.
Update: 6:11 p.m., relaxed pretty much all afternoon, junk TV, dog in lap, and dozing. When my pain pill's 4 hours were up, and I tried getting up and doing a few light tasks, my jaw started to hurt, so took and second pain pill and decided to goof off. John is headed home, decided to forego Wednesday night church and come hold my hand, and I have soup on. Planning to bore myself until he comes in, watching my re- re- edited GB course videos to see if they're "good enough," whatever that means.
Gotta tell ya, my doctor is great! She can give you a shot, and if your eyes are closed so you don't see the needle, you wouldn't know it! She kids around; at one point, I told her my face was wet, and she said, "That's because I dwibbled on you," and then for a while, she stuck with the Elmer Fudd voice. I love the way she distracts me, and yet I always feel that she's being very, very meticulous.
A friend said this about his dental implants: "It only hurt in the wallet." I think I agree with him.
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“Gotta tell ya, my doctor is great!” – Sounds like you have a healthy professional relationship with your dentist! I think that’s good. When you are confident with your dental professional, there is a high probability that you will feel at ease and comfortable with any procedure, which will make it easier. And you are quite lucky to have found one that matches your needs.
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