Good Monday morning to ya'll. Just about to drink my first cup of coffee and get ready for the day which includes a visit to the dentist, ugh. I will be scheduling to begin the process of several tooth implants and that doesn't sound like too much fun. It's either that or a bridge, whatever that is, and I'm going for the permanent things or as permanent as you can be if it is called an "implant." You see when they say the word "bridge" I go into shock, for I have a phobia about bridges and to think of having one of those things in my mouth sends me into major, heart palpitations and I have get out the smelling salts and the lace-edged handkerchief to prepare for a fainting spell.
You see I have a problem stemming from when I was about 7 years old and had to make my 1st visit to THE dentist in my home town. As you can tell, there was only one and to my young eyes he looked about 100 years old. Now I am sure he wasn't that old, but he was up in years and I had the toothache so most anybody would do at that moment.
His office was upstairs over a store, I think. I do know it was upstairs over something and we had to climb the stairs, which were outside the building to get to his office. I don't remember a lot about it, but I do remember pulling this tooth was the only procedure he would do and because it was a baby tooth and would be coming out anyway, not much "deadening" stuff was used and it hurt like the devil. Mama always said the devil would hurt you real bad.
Also during the "olden days" in small town Alabama, there was not much known about spacers to hold the space for the new tooth or pulling the one next to it, heaven forbid, so it would come in straight. So the end results was a permanent tooth coming in slightly behind the others and that is one of the major reasons I am having to have these implant things or "fox" teeth as we used to call them.
I don't remember much about Dr. Duke's office and I'm sure it was nice but to me it seemed like a chamber of horrors and I never went back for another "horrible tooth pulling". Now the dentist I see now for filling up that hole and several others due to cavities caused by that tooth, is a very nice young man with a lovely office, sweet, kind and gentle office staff, and loving tender care for the old lady, but it is still a dentist office and the torture is still being done each and every day to those of us who think we are going to a "tea party."
However, there she goes with the however, he is cute and smiles sweetly while he gets me ready for the nurse to gently put a foot long needle in my arm, injects this drug of who knows what and then, oh my, I begin to grow sleepy and off I go into lala land to awaken later with a mouth that hurts like the dickens. They gently place ice packs on my face, wheel me out to the car and away I go to hurt, moan and cry at least until my sweet husband hands me one of those "horse pills" and away I float back to lala land.
I just know they take me into a horror chamber while I am away visiting lala land and gleefully laugh as they do all sorts of horrible, bloody, painful things to my mouth. Now they have told me these new teeth implanted things will look just like real teeth and I will be like a beautiful princess with lovely new teeth and will look 20 years younger. RIGHT!
Oh well, I can dream can't I, so let the torture begin.
The Georgia Peach