Do My Implants Look Real?

I have my two year check-up coming up on April 25th with my oral surgeon. I had dental implants done three years ago and I bounce back and forth between yearly check-ups with my oral surgeon and my dental prosthetist or however you would say that. I just about referred to him as my dental proctologist (now that would be an interesting career). I'm quite looking forward to this check-up because of how relaxed I will be when I leave. Some people may think that's an odd statement to make, but it's true. I had many different appointments with this surgeon throughout the whole implant process and each time I was in his office, I was sedated. I wasn't completely knocked out, but I don't remember much from the surgeries (except for the one time I sort of ''came to'' and I overheard the surgeon talking about the airbrushing in PlayBoy and I remember thinking ''C'mon people...focus!''). So now, between the hiss of the air conditioner and the beeps from monitors in other rooms, my body just instantly relaxes.

Check ups with my prosthetist aren't quite as relaxing. Mainly because of the one terrible visit that pretty much scarred me for life. Allow me to back track for a moment: I knocked out my front teeth in a bike accident when I was ten. I don't remember the pain, but I'm sure it must have hurt. But I don't remember crying. They tried putting my teeth back in, but eight months later, my body began to reject them. They did two root canals to try and save them. I didn't cry. Evenutally, I had to have them pulled. It hurt. Bad. But I didn't cry. Over the years, I had many different uncomfortable procedures done, but I never cried. I had a bone graft done (transferring bone from my hip to my gums to build up the gum line). I didn't cry. When they re-opened my gums to put in the bolts, I didn't cry. To sum it all up...I have never cried during a dental procedure. Until January 2004.

I was in the prosthetist's office and he was going to attach the abuttments to the posts (the final teeth would eventually be attached to these abuttments). I asked him if the procedure hurt. He said no. I asked if I could have some local freezing, just so I wouldn't be in discomfort. He said that no one else ever gets freezing for it, so he didn't think I should need it. Fine. Whatever. So, he proceeds to attach the first abuttment (on my right eye tooth). He attaches it and begins to torque it with a miniature allen wrench-type tool. He torques it until it's good and tight. He moves on to my front tooth. He places the abuttment on and begins to torque. He torques and he torques and he torques until I feel two things simultaneously...his hand slip passed my nose and, inside my gums, the bolt twists. Now, I should explain that this bolt takes the place of a normal tooth root. It had been two years since the bone graft, so that gave plenty of time for the bolt to attach itself to the bone and to grow new sinew and nerves and everything else. In short, imagine if someone reached into your mouth, grabbed your front tooth and twisted it inside your head. With no sedation. No freezing. No nothing. For the first time in my dental history, I finally cried. Actually, I think wailing would be more appropriate. My initial reaction was to kick the dentist in the head. When he realized what he had done, the first thing he said was, "Perhaps we should get you some freezing". No. No. No. Perhaps you should get me some Tylenol 3. Perhaps you should get me an ice pack for my face. Perhaps you should have listened to me when I asked for freezing. Perhaps you shouldn't have continued torquing when you felt the abuttment snug up the first time. Perhaps you should phone the oral surgeon so he can straighten out this mess you just created.

My implants were delayed an entire year because of this slip-up. I had to have the bolt removed, let my mouth heal and then have a new one inserted. I was originally suppose to be done with the implants in February 2004. It wasn't until March 2005 that they were finished. Needless to say, the prosthetist is not my favourite person. Thankfully, I don't have to see him for another two years.