Open Wider, Please

So, on Monday I made another long drive for a not-so-short appointment, this time to my dentist for the next step in my latest tooth saga, measuring my mouth for the crown for my implant. While I’m grateful that there is a way to keep saving my teeth as I keep losing them to scleroderma-induced root resorption, the process is long, uncomfortable, and not covered by insurance, so it’s no fun and incredibly expensive.

This visit was to make an impression of my teeth, so that the crown can fit properly. I believe the last time I had this done, a few years ago, they were still using that icky goop in a metal tray that they stuck in my mouth (no easy feat). I had to bite down and hold for a few minutes to create a mold. The process always reminded me of my childhood orthodontist’s office, with its shelves of plaster dentures from all of his clients’ mouths, eerily grinning.

Now, however, they can make a digital image of your teeth with a probe. No goop. But the probe is not small and my mouth opening, due to scleroderma, is not big. And as one tech, and then another, did her best to scan my teeth, each had to stretch my lips and cheeks to get the full impression, a definitely-no-fun experience. Finally that first set of images was completed, and I was able to rest my mouth.

Then came my dentist, who had to remove the small metal screw-in cap from the implant and then screw in some kind of post that determined the angle of the new crown. But he was having trouble unscrewing the cap and screwing in the post, because his finger are large and my mouth opening is small. Again, no fun, and he was stressed because he knew I was uncomfortable and didn’t want to hurt me. Finally that stage was finished, and I rested my mouth again.

But the next step was to scan the post with the probe, and first one tech, and then the next, could not get the full image that was required, despite a lot of lip and cheek stretching. They were discussing the possibility of falling back to the goop mold (after all that?!) when my dentist’s partner, a women with small, steady hands, a great sense of humor, and a boatload of patience, came to the rescue. Turns out the post was turned the wrong way, so that’s why the image wasn’t registering. She deftly repositioned it, redid the scan, took out the post, and replaced the cap in a fraction of the time the whole procedure had taken up to this point. “You’re a trooper!” she said, at the end.

If memory serves, she had to come in as the closer last time around, too. Sigh.

Before I left, I set up a payment plan and my next appointment. I’ll have my new tooth before New Year’s, and it will be paid for by my birthday in April. Al and I could have traveled around the world with all the money I’ve had to spend on implants in the past decade-plus. Here’s hoping everything fits, and that I can avoid this whole mishegas for another few years, until the inevitable next tooth bites the dust.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Jonathan Borba