My parents are in their seventies and eighties but pretty much have all their own teeth.
At lunch the other day, they were reminiscing about how when they were kids, everyone automatically went to the dentist when they turned forty and had all their teeth removed and were fitted for a full set of dentures.
A bit like when I was a kid and all women, as soon as they turned forty, had their hair cut short and permed.
But times have changed.
For most people.
I have this tooth you see. It’s hanging tenuously by a half-hearted, pathetically minded root. It’s a perfectly solid tooth, no decay, but the bone in my jaw that it’s supposed to be attached to has irrevocably disintegrated.
If it was a back tooth it wouldn’t bother me. Who needs to eat steak anyway? But oh no, the cavernous gap will be a visible boganesque giveaway every time I smile.
Jesus Christ.
How has it come to this?
Like most of you, I clean and floss my teeth. There were a few times in the eighties when I probably went to bed without cleaning my teeth after sculling strawberry daiquiris at the Beef and Bourbon in King’s Cross until five in the morning, but generally speaking I’ve been pretty dentally hygienic.
This tooth in question is a definite goner. The dentist told me.
She said I would have to have a BONE GRAFT to support the surrounding teeth and did I want her to take out the loose tooth there and then?
That was two and a half years ago and I haven’t been back. The tooth is still defiantly clinging on for dear life.
But I know eventually I have to go and have something done.
I googled ‘toothy bone grafts’ today and do you know where the dentists get the bone from?
Cadavers.
Last time I looked up ‘cadavers’, it meant ‘dead bodies’.
I’m desperately hoping there’s a new meaning for cadavers I somehow missed? For example, does it now mean, ‘synthetic, hygienically processed, inexpensive product transferrable to human tissue’? I could deal with that.
Since when do dentists have cadavers lying around their surgeries?
I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I don't want some dead person's bone in my mouth for fudge's sake!!!
But then I read about what happens if you DON’T replace missing teeth. Apparently, the bone completely crumbles into non-existence, your other teeth all move forward and your face eventually collapses in on itself and you wind up looking like Mrs. McGillicuddy.
I don’t think Scotto will want to kiss me if I look like Mrs. McGillicuddy. No offence to Mrs. McGillicuddy.
And after the bone graft, you still have to wait nine months before you can have an implant, in the meantime you need invasive gum flap surgery and then afterwards you have to clean your implant with a NASA approved kit three times a fudging day.
I haven’t even mentioned the cost this dental extravaganza would entail. Think “NASA launching a fudging probe to Mars” and you’d be close.
All I can say is … why? Why are you doing this to me, ye venerable Tooth Fairy?
In the meantime I’ve informed Scotto that if I ever have to be rushed into surgery in an emergency operation scenario and the anaesthetist asks if I have any loose teeth to please be adamant that I definitely do. In fact my tooth is so loose I’ll probably swallow it in my sleep one night.
God.
Bloody hell I hate getting old.
Since when do dentists have cadavers lying around their surgeries?
I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I don't want some dead person's bone in my mouth for fudge's sake!!!
But then I read about what happens if you DON’T replace missing teeth. Apparently, the bone completely crumbles into non-existence, your other teeth all move forward and your face eventually collapses in on itself and you wind up looking like Mrs. McGillicuddy.
I don’t think Scotto will want to kiss me if I look like Mrs. McGillicuddy. No offence to Mrs. McGillicuddy.
And after the bone graft, you still have to wait nine months before you can have an implant, in the meantime you need invasive gum flap surgery and then afterwards you have to clean your implant with a NASA approved kit three times a fudging day.
I haven’t even mentioned the cost this dental extravaganza would entail. Think “NASA launching a fudging probe to Mars” and you’d be close.
All I can say is … why? Why are you doing this to me, ye venerable Tooth Fairy?
In the meantime I’ve informed Scotto that if I ever have to be rushed into surgery in an emergency operation scenario and the anaesthetist asks if I have any loose teeth to please be adamant that I definitely do. In fact my tooth is so loose I’ll probably swallow it in my sleep one night.
God.
Bloody hell I hate getting old.
