April has certainly gone out with a bang, or at least a drilling. In preparation for future orthodontic work, I had all my old metal fillings from days gone by removed and replaced with white composite fillings--all 8 of them. I decided to take care of this preventative work all in one sitting, you know, just to get it over with. I knew the appointment time would last about an hour and thirty minutes.
Of course, the dental chair is, often, the place most want to avoid. The term 'dental anxiety' comes to mind. I have many a memory of visiting the dentist office as a child, with that horrid smell that would hit me in the face as soon as I walked into the waiting room. I usually would end up with a cavity to be filled, needing novicane for treatment, which would, of course, leave me with a wicked headache afterwards.
Sedation is now available through many dental offices, but my choice is to remain awake (to keep an eye on things and deep breathe) and just take the novicane for those tender moments.
Well, since this appointment was comprising 8 fillings being removed, with both sides of the mouth involved, I was in for a numbing treat. The first one wasn't too bad, just a pinch at the site. Number two was a bit more intense; it reminded me of an extremely mild spinal in preparation for giving birth with what felt like electrical impulses shooting through my muscles. That's enough to give one dental anxiety if anything is.
But I made it through the application, and with lots of deep breathing through the nose to calm my nerves (after gagging twice from triangle-shaped pads placed in the sides of my mouth), I managed through the rest of the treatment.
Now, I'm in the recovery stage, with very sore, tender injection sights to contend with. Don't ask me to yawn or laugh since I'm feeling a bit like I've got lock-jaw.
All this to prepare for orthodontics. We don't want any teeth breakage in the middle of a two year treatment. So now my teeth are all white; you'd never know I had any fillings in my mouth. That's a nice cosmetic benefit. Smile for the camera with your mouth wide open, please.
By the end of May this year, my teenage daughter and I will be swimming in orthodontic waters together. I figured at first that I could be a comfort to her in times of "why did we do this, again?" moments when we both get an orthodontic adjustment. But she's a tough cookie; meaning, she'll be the one telling me that I'll make it and not to be such a wimp. (Mind you, we haven't gotten them on yet, so we'll see....)
Well, we'll both be in this together. Metal in the mouth. (Maybe we'll take a picture or two to commemorate the occasion.) In just two long years, we'll be smiling with our pearly whites properly placed.
A big bang will be reduced to a flash of the camera!
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