[img]396|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img] The last time I saw my dental hygienist for my bi-annual cleaning, I got a little bonus—a visit from The Dentist himself. Seemed that one of the fillings I got as a child needed to be replaced. The filling was cracked all the way up my tooth, and couldn’t just be replaced with another filling. Dr. P. said I would need something called an onlay, which is like a filling, except it covers the whole surface of the tooth.
When he first told me about it I thought he said, “enlay,” some designer procedure imported from France. It sounded really exotic till I asked him how to spell it. He looked at me like I’d been inhaling laughing gas and spelled, “O-N-L-A-Y.” “Ohhh,” I said. The guy really thought I was one sandwich short of a picnic.
Now Where Did He Learn That?
[img]484|left|||no_popup[/img] I went to get the onlay. First, Dr. P. stuck a swab of fruit-flavored gel in my mouth. That was in preparation for the inch-long needle he would be injecting into my gum so I’d have no feeling in my mouth. Then he did a strange thing. He put his finger under my upper lip, and shook it back and forth while injecting my gum with the Novocaine. I bet he picked up that handy little tip from some senior dentist when he was in dental school, but I’m not sure what the point of it was.
In any case, my mouth was numb in a few minutes. The dental assistant gave me a pair of plastic glasses to wear. They were to protect me from debris flying out of my mouth, but all I could think of was how much I looked like Bono. I wanted to sing, “Sunday, Bloody Sunnnnndaaaay…”
While Dr. P. was out of the room, I asked DA what would be happening. In my experience with health care professionals, I have found that they are content to get the job done, without explaining to the patient what is happening and why. Whenever I can, I ask.
DA explained that they would be taking a mold of my tooth. They’d send the mold to the lab so they could make a permanent onlay, and I’d have to come back in three weeks to have that put in. I’d have a temporary one until then. She stuck some blue goop into my mouth and told me to bite down. When I opened my mouth and she took it out, I asked to see it. It looked like I had stuck a wad of Silly Putty in my mouth; I could clearly see the imprint of three of my teeth. Next, she did a color match. She had these sticks with varying colors of fake teeth on them. She kept putting them in my mouth to get the closest match. One of them was bright white. I asked which one that was. She said it was the bleach treatment color. Yikes. I said I’d take the tea-stained one, thanks.
Dr. P. came back into the room and stuck a mass of a different substance in my mouth, telling me to bite down. He didn’t explain what it was or why it was there; he just said cheerily, “Five minutes!” and walked out the door. I glared at the back of his white coat.
I Craved Raisins, Ice Cream and Snickers
Wanna know how it felt? Get a pack of soft bubble gum. Stick every piece of the whole pack in your mouth. Chew it just until it’s all melded together. Now pull out half of it so that it hangs out of your mouth. Stop. Wait five minutes. Now you know how I felt.
After about two minutes, I started drooling. I dabbed at my chin with a tissue and waited for the humiliation to be over. Finally, a bell rang and the glop was removed. It looked exactly like the other mold, except that it was sturdier and two different colors.
While I had been in two-tone torture, DA had been creating my substitute onlay. It looked like the top layer of a tooth. She put it in my mouth to see how it fit. It wasn’t quite right, so she had to take it out and file it down. She did this a couple of times. When it was just right, it clicked onto my tooth like two Legos snapping together. Dr. P. said it was just like a puzzle piece. Fascinating.
DA went over my aftercare for the next three weeks. She told me to avoid anything sticky, like gum, or hard, like bones. I laughed really hard when she said that. I pictured myself in a leopard skin dress sitting in front of a fire, gnawing on the bone of some prehistoric animal. She said you’d be surprised at what people eat. I might also be sensitive to hot and cold.
When I got home, guess what I had a craving for? Raisins, ice cream, a Snickers bar, and popcorn. And a big stick. Just kidding about the stick. I think I’ll go play with some Silly Putty and Legos.
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at campbellalexandra@hotmail.com
