No sooner had the surgeon sent me home with a pounding heart than my brace dislodged, and with it the crunch of pork belly sandwiched between two teeth, torpedoing a plate of still intact sauerkraut. The dinner guests think it’s hilarious, but when there are more gaps than teeth, it’s far from funny. An appointment with an orthodontist is never pleasant. Who likes someone’s gloved fingers feeling around your mouth? Then there’s drilling with scary tools and a plastic straw that sucks up the debris left behind by pushing, prodding, creaking, and sawing. All this while lying on your back…
No sooner had the surgeon sent me home with a pounding heart than my brace dislodged, and with it the crunch of pork belly sandwiched between two teeth, torpedoing a plate of still intact sauerkraut.
The dinner guests think it’s hilarious, but when there are more gaps than teeth, it’s far from funny. An appointment with an orthodontist is never pleasant. Who likes someone’s gloved fingers feeling around your mouth?
Then there’s drilling with scary tools and a plastic straw that sucks up the debris left behind by pushing, prodding, creaking, and sawing. All this while lying on your back with your head hanging over the edge. Even with your eyes closed, you can hear the incessant noise of instruments and the heavy sigh of Zubatik.
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It’s sighs and “oops!” indicates a mistake he is making? His constant instructions to the assistant add to the fear. I try to think about good things, but probably because of the immediate environment, the brain retains more bad thoughts. Like a red-faced Juju sticking a Blue Label instead of fulfilling his promises to the poor.
“Pass me Merrifield’s knife, then circulation.” So slash and burn? I wince. “Elevator periosteum, do it fast, the flap is starting to tear.” I open one eye and see a tool with a hook on both sides. “Trap” can only be rubber pulp? I wince.
Obviously, Tooth, who has screwed, cut and dug hundreds of mouths, notices these subtle signs. “Are you okay Cliff?” I nod vigorously to let him focus on his work and not my state of mind.
“Surgical Blade #2.” I frown again. Blade means to cut something. The same gum? He ignores me. I close my eyes and thankfully remember a dentist anecdote my previous orthodontist told me when he was getting his wisdom teeth. The patient asks the dentist if it is unpleasant to spend the day with your hands in your mouth.
“I think of it as having my hands in their wallet.” I thought it wise not to explain my sudden giggle to the frowning Toothless. He still held the blade holder too close. Anyway, after all, I have a new bridge that can take a 300-pound steak.
