Teeth

     My mother didn't "believe" in anesthesia for kids-- or at least for me-- when it came to doing any sort of dental work. Maybe I had four cavities. All of them were filled without long needles being inserted in my gums first. One baby tooth with massive roots was pulled the same way. The dental work must have hurt some but I don't remember that now. I remember noticing the body odor of a dental hygienist. To me, it smelled like pea soup.

     We changed dentists once. The new dentist was farther away and probably cheaper. I did learn from him that there were four types of saliva. They ranged in terms of protection from cavities. That was the kind of thing I was interested in as a child [and still]. Small factoids that not too many people knew. I collected them like I collect different sorts of rocks and feathers now.

     After I went to live with Dad, the time came for me to go to the dentist. It was a new dentist to me. A filling had to be repaired. Having never had any sort of pain duller before, the needle in the gum routine was new to me.

     "Can you feel this? Can you fill this?" The dentist leaned over me as he gently tapped the side of my cheek.

     "Yeah, I can feel it." 

     Ten minutes later. "Can you feel this? Can you fill this?"

     "Yeah," I growled. "I can feel that." Another needle went in.

     Ten more minutes. "Can you feel this now?"

     "Yeah."

     "I can't give you any more. I've given you enough to kill a horse."

     I was impressed.

     Twenty minutes after leaving the office, the numbing agent kicked in. I chewed up the inside of my mouth without knowing it.




     Seems like we forget that old people have teeth that need professional cleaning, partials that need tightening, and dentures that need more than soaking without any scrubbing. I remember one old lady at a nursing home I visited and the dentist there.

     " My-name-is-Vincent. I'm-a-dentist. I-want-to-see-your-teeth." he yelled.

     "But mister, I only have one tooth."




     Dad always took care of his teeth. But by time he got here, he had some teeth missing and a temporary partial plate. 

     He complained that the first dentist was too rough and blamed him for cracking a tooth.

     He complained that the second dentist's office assistant overcharged him for the new permanent partial. [She hadn't].

     He complained that he didn't have money and would have to find a dentist that took "time payments." He refused to go otherwise.

     Once the powers that be finally acknowledged that he should not be managing his own financial affairs, staff at the house lost interest in taking him to any dentist.

     When old people become slow and pokey and difficult to "transport," excuses are made. It's too late [in his life] to take him to a dentist. (He's dying). He needs the extra money to buy incontinence products. All of the dentist offices that I called the other day were closed. Do you suppose that a dentist could come here to see him??? [I'm not running the house. I don't give a damn about the mechanics of him seeing a dentist. I want his partial plate adjusted and possibly a professional teeth cleaning].


sapphoq on life says: I get it. I understand that brushing partials is "gross." I get that helping someone to brush teeth more thoroughly-- especially someone who is resistant to help-- is "not easy." I know that quite a few folks here prefer to let their own teeth rot out of their mouths rather than visit a dentist.
     What you are doing is still wrong. Meanwhile, I keep pushing to get this stuff done.