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Teeth on the lower jaw.

Finally started work on the teeth on knowing there was some money available. Thankfully, there were teeth available to work with. Phew!

There’s three molars missing and one molar is a milk tooth. For a meat-eater’s teeth, this is near-terminal. The others have been worn and the last dentist had said, “You’ll be lucky if you have any teeth left by 60.” Uuhhh….

One root canal, two fillings and three bridges, followed by making a guard to keep from grinding the teeth while i slept.

It started in early October. The Brother told me, “Once it begins, there’s no going back. You’ll have to do all of it.” “Okay, daa.”

Two months later, the bridges are finally in, the fillings have been done, the root canal is complete and the mouth is getting used to new teeth, a different shape and a new structure. The guard will be made next week.

There’s so much of the body that i am not attentive to that it speaks louder and louder till i, hopefully, listen.

The root canal took a week to complete. It was surprisingly painless.

“Metal or ceramic?” “First two ceramic, third one metal.” “Okay.”

The first set of molars separated by a canyon readily accepted the bridge. Beginner’s luck! The next set, directly above them, refused the second bridge’s overtures. Even after grinding the bridge some more, they refused to fit. Back they went to the studio to be moulded along with a more detailed reconstruction of the teeth.

A week and two sittings later, “We’ll fit these with a temporary adhesive for now. If it feels fine, we’ll keep them in there till it comes off on its own and then put a permanent adhesive.” Okay then. The bridge came off three weeks later in a friend’s kitchen, when i was washing up after dinner. My first thought was, “There were no nuts in the food!” Followed by, “Oh, teeth.”

The third bridge on the opposite ridge took the longest as the other teeth decided to join in on the fun. On trying the third bridge, the doctor asked, “Do you feel anything in your way?” “Uh huh,” followed by nodding.

Out came the tiny mirror. The lips were raised and teeth checked like a dogs. I had a strong urge to go, “Rrrrrrr.” Then started the grinding of the bridge with the tiny drill of doom. “Eeeeeeeee…..” That wail brought all the nerves in my head to life, even though it was two feet away.

The seventeenth time this happened, i did go, “Rrrrrr,” to myself. The carbon paper was brought out and my discipline was now being checked. “Open.” Paper placed on tooth. “Close.” Paper chomped by teeth. “Open.” Placed. “Close.” Chomped. “Open.” Placed. “Close.” Chomped.

This game continued for a while. There were no rewards at the end of eqch game, just some grinding by the drill followed by another game. “Do you want to send it to the studio again?” “Yes.”

Four days and a postponement later — it was me — the bridge was fitted, but not before more grinding. “We’ll do the night guard next week after these teeth set properly.”

Finally, they were all in. The Brother’s words rang true, we had almost done all of it over these past two months. I could chew easier, but the toothy, lop-sided grin remained. Thank goodness for that.

Now to find out if i’ll have teeth left over by 60. For that i’ll have to stick around till then. Oh well . .

Post & photos credits – Hormazd Mehta.


Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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