Wednesday, March 10, 2010
A bit more of me dumped in the rubbish bin.
The deed is done - I have 3 less of my own teeth than I had before.
At least half of my original teeth are now in the rubbish bin.
Let me start by saying that I am pleased.
The denture, with new teeth fixed to it, is in place.
I am just beginning to get some feeling and movement back into my face and I can now see that I look better for it - no more brown teeth to mar my smile.
I am pleased, too, with how I coped. I was brave!
I was reasonably calm - there seemed no point allowing tension to make things worse when I was in a situation that I couldn't change.
I hate injections of any kind - always have; that would be from the first ones I ever remember when I had a bad ear infection, aged 5. The doctor came with his cap and his bag and administered penicillin injections, which hurt a great deal.
Nobody likes them of course, but it borders almost on a phobia with me - can't watch them even in a film, when naturally no actual injection occurred.
So I gripped on to teddy - squeezed and pummelled, breathing deeply as they went in one by one. Each one seems to take an age to be completed.
Two of the teeth came out easily - hardly noticed their going. One, the pre molar, was a little more awkward.
It was all over in half an hour.
Mr Clinton showed me the nasty teeth and it was obvious that they were best in the bin.
I felt quite shaky as I climbed out of the chair to be met by Bill.
I am now getting to the stage when a certain amount of pain is creeping in.
I have eaten some soft shop chips and drunk a wee glass of sherry.
I shall go to bed early - for yes, I do feel a certain sense of being in shock.
Tomorrow I must use warm salty water to rinse my mouth out to help with healing.
It will be a couple of days before things settle completely - but hey! I did it!
Life goes on.
At least half of my original teeth are now in the rubbish bin.
Let me start by saying that I am pleased.
The denture, with new teeth fixed to it, is in place.
I am just beginning to get some feeling and movement back into my face and I can now see that I look better for it - no more brown teeth to mar my smile.
I am pleased, too, with how I coped. I was brave!
I was reasonably calm - there seemed no point allowing tension to make things worse when I was in a situation that I couldn't change.
I hate injections of any kind - always have; that would be from the first ones I ever remember when I had a bad ear infection, aged 5. The doctor came with his cap and his bag and administered penicillin injections, which hurt a great deal.
Nobody likes them of course, but it borders almost on a phobia with me - can't watch them even in a film, when naturally no actual injection occurred.
So I gripped on to teddy - squeezed and pummelled, breathing deeply as they went in one by one. Each one seems to take an age to be completed.
Two of the teeth came out easily - hardly noticed their going. One, the pre molar, was a little more awkward.
It was all over in half an hour.
Mr Clinton showed me the nasty teeth and it was obvious that they were best in the bin.
I felt quite shaky as I climbed out of the chair to be met by Bill.
I am now getting to the stage when a certain amount of pain is creeping in.
I have eaten some soft shop chips and drunk a wee glass of sherry.
I shall go to bed early - for yes, I do feel a certain sense of being in shock.
Tomorrow I must use warm salty water to rinse my mouth out to help with healing.
It will be a couple of days before things settle completely - but hey! I did it!
Life goes on.
