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Dec. 13th, 2007 07:50 pmMy tooth is almost non-existent, but it still lives. The dentist was impressed with its endurance, because only a tiny bit of enamel remains. A bit chipped off and I already had a ginormous filling across the middle. The filling was unstable and had to come out (which took 3 seconds and a bit of a wiggle) and my dentist discoverd decay, tucked away where the x-rays couldn't see it. So me losing that half tooth saved the nerve of the remaining tooth and I can postpone the fraughtness of complex operations. What I have is a smaller tooth. And no pain. It was the most painless emergency fix ever.
One of the biggest advantages of being a dentist's daughter is knowing what you like and don't like in the manner of your dentist. I have a superb dentist, which is good, because a lifetime on medication has given me teeth that fall apart when I smile too hard. I chose him because he was like my father: gentle, a very good craftsman and totally fascinated by his work. He doesn't tell the dreadful jokes Dad did; he doesn't sing in seven keys for every three bars of melody; but he has cool equipment and loves showing it off and talking dental history. Last time my teeth failed me I learned about how someone Medieval could get gingivitis and today I learned how the new stuff they use for fillings bonds chemically and can keep even my merest skerrick of a tooth in operation for longer.
Today I commented on his new screen and said "Dad would have loved that" and got to see my tooth at every stage of the procedure. Tony was just as fascinated by my stories of Dad's original equipment, which we played on as kids. We weren't allowed to use the drill, of course, but we were given unlimited pedalling permission and were allowed to play in the chair. It's all now very rare and special and in the State Library of Victoria.
Two things I know as a dentist's daughter (and someone who has a little experience of assisting dental nurses):
1. If you're scared, the pain becomes much, much worse.
2. A gentle dentist who's good at the craft means that you can make jokes and that also helps with fear and pain. Think of the dentist and his/her staff as human and interesting in their own right - that helps more than anything.
The other thing I was thinking today is how much it helps when you crack jokes with the dental nurse or hygienist or whoever is doing the assisting.
This post was brought to you by a very, very tiny but supremely courageous molar.
One of the biggest advantages of being a dentist's daughter is knowing what you like and don't like in the manner of your dentist. I have a superb dentist, which is good, because a lifetime on medication has given me teeth that fall apart when I smile too hard. I chose him because he was like my father: gentle, a very good craftsman and totally fascinated by his work. He doesn't tell the dreadful jokes Dad did; he doesn't sing in seven keys for every three bars of melody; but he has cool equipment and loves showing it off and talking dental history. Last time my teeth failed me I learned about how someone Medieval could get gingivitis and today I learned how the new stuff they use for fillings bonds chemically and can keep even my merest skerrick of a tooth in operation for longer.
Today I commented on his new screen and said "Dad would have loved that" and got to see my tooth at every stage of the procedure. Tony was just as fascinated by my stories of Dad's original equipment, which we played on as kids. We weren't allowed to use the drill, of course, but we were given unlimited pedalling permission and were allowed to play in the chair. It's all now very rare and special and in the State Library of Victoria.
Two things I know as a dentist's daughter (and someone who has a little experience of assisting dental nurses):
1. If you're scared, the pain becomes much, much worse.
2. A gentle dentist who's good at the craft means that you can make jokes and that also helps with fear and pain. Think of the dentist and his/her staff as human and interesting in their own right - that helps more than anything.
The other thing I was thinking today is how much it helps when you crack jokes with the dental nurse or hygienist or whoever is doing the assisting.
This post was brought to you by a very, very tiny but supremely courageous molar.