Curse These Dental Implants

I am not good with time – or details once time passes – but more than five years ago, I had jaw surgery, which saw my lower jaw pushed back and my upper jaw moved forward (or vice versus).

The purpose was to fix my TMJ and hopefully stop my headaches.

Since I was changing the look of my face any way, I also decided to have two implants put in: one for an eye tooth that never came in and one for a bottom molar, which was removed years earlier by a dentist who felt I had too many teeth in my mouth and yanked a couple of them, leaving me with gaping holes and eventually bone loss. (And that meant I had a bone graph, removing it from my hip, prior to having the implant inserted.)

Implants, if you have the money, are apparently the way to go. They are permanent so you don’t have to worry about pain associated with dentures or bridges and they ‘look so real people never know they aren’t.’

Ahh, if only that was the case.

I have hated my dental implants since Day 1.

My former dentist blames the oral surgeon for the look of my upper implant that shows the titanium when I smile. He says the oral surgeon didn’t do the implant correctly.

The oral surgeon didn’t blame any one, nor except the blame, but did say he would do a gum graph, which would cover the titanium, and while there gum graph the rest of the my teeth making them less sensitive. (I am leaning toward this option, however, the former dentist also believes it will happen again as this area of the gum often recedes. The problem is I am not sure I believe this dentist any longer particularly after what happened to Dental Implant No. 2.)

During the summer, I was eating and swore I felt my implant (No. 2) lift. I wiggled it, but didn’t notice anything. I tried eating something else and it didn’t seem to happen again.

A day later I was flossing and the tooth shot out of my mouth and bounced across the bathroom floor.

I freaked. I thought my gums were so far receded I would need to have surgery to put the tooth back on.

I made an appointment with the former dentist (who I left due to the location not anything else originally) who told me implants sometimes come off, particularly if you are eating something sticky. He re-cemented it and I was on my way.

Fast forward to Saturday morning. I was eating a gumdrop and the tooth came off and hit my other teeth.

I am pissed. I spent a lot of money on these implants. I was told they are the best. There is no pain (the top one hurts), they look real (scoff) and they are permanent.

I should be able to eat sticky taffy and the implant shouldn’t come off, not after five years and certainly not after four months. I am not going back to the former dentist to have it fixed, rather I am going to our new dentist to see if she can do a better job.

Curse these implants.

Dentist Torture

When it comes to the dentist, I am sort of like a dog at the veterinarian - absolutely terrified.

And I am not talking about nerves leading up to the big day. No, I am talking about nerves leading up to the big day plus sobbing in the chair, shoulders up around my bottom jaw, body shakes and hands clenched so hard, they are not only white, but also bent out of shape.

I have had nothing but bad experiences with dentists and that includes nice, professional, caring dentists.

I have bad teeth, terrible gums and apparently a really low tolerance for dental work pain. I spent many years hating my original dentist because I thought he pulled four teeth without freezing. It wasn’t until I had my second root canal done - and felt the entire procedure - that I realized that I had freezing, but it takes a long time for it to take effect. Let’s just say that by the time I left the chair, the freezing finally took.

I have had a lot of work done on my mouth including jaw surgery, bone graphs, implants and more. I swear I felt some of the implant work being done and I suffered a lot after my jaw surgery.

I had teeth rotting and falling out, I have sensitive teeth, my gums are receding and I have a weak stomach so the whole process, including brushing my teeth, makes me want to throw up and I spend a lot of time gagging.

So despite this fear, I still go to the dentist. And because my gums and teeth are so bad, I go more often than most - once every three months. Lucky me.

So dentists aren’t my favourite people.

We recently got a new dentist. We were happy with the old one, but his practice is in Whitby and I can’t ask my son to spend a hour in the car, a hour in the office and a hour back. It’s too far away.

So we go to a dentist who is 15 minutes away, which is fabulous. Unfortunately, it’s hard to explain and make people understand 34 years of dental misery. Eventually they will figure out that I am a nervous wreck and I will cry each time so don’t worry and just get the torture over with. I’ll see you in three months.