It's the oral surgeon who really suffered.
I had a double crown lengthening -- hard tissue (that's what the bill says). More tooth is required to affix the two side-by-side permanent crowns. So the surgeon cut away my gums to expose bone. Then he filed and reshaped them and stitched me back up. He told me this would take about 45 minutes.
It was more than an hour. The position on my lower left jaw -- midway between my front teeth and my back molars -- as well as the shape of my mouth made it harder for him to access the area for the reshaping and stitching. He had a hard time finding the right angle and the right tools to complete the procedure.
Let me state it plainly: I was in no pain. I wasn't enjoying myself, not by a long shot. I was dealing with the icky noises and smells and sounds that go with being in the chair for a long procedure. But I was, as they say, comfortably numb.
I knew there were complications by the mumbled conversations behind my head. The surgeon kept changing his position and sending the hygienist away for different tools. And he was giving me unnecessary words of encouragement.
"You're doing great, Sweetheart." Um, I'm not actually doing anything.
"We've got this, Honey." Again, I'm immobile and have contributed nothing to this situation but bad teeth and an apparently freakishly small mouth. He was doing all the work.
"We'll get you cleaned up, Sweetheart." This was when we were finally done. What I thought was water spraying onto my cheek and jaw was, apparently, mixed with my blood and I guess I looked like I was in a horror movie. I didn't see it, though. As he promised, my face was dabbed clean before I could see my reflection.
I'm aware that in today's world, men and women don't exchange endearments in a professional setting. On the one hand, "Sweetheart" and "Honey" confirmed my suspicion that he'd encountered unexpected complications. On the other hand, I was comforted that he cared about me and was committed to doing a good job. After the nightmare of what happened in June of 2021 in a different dentist's office -- when the hygienist removed a permanent crown instead of them temporary one -- that's not small.
I hear endearments like that a lot around my area. For reasons I'm not quite clear on myself, I don't mind it when I hear it from other women, but I do bristle if a man calls me something like that.
ReplyDeleteI very rarely hear endearments, now that I think of it.
ReplyDeleteI'm gearing up for my own dental procedures this week. Eeek!
Mostly the dentist calls me by my first name. I'd think of it as temporary insanity if he ever called me "Sweetheart". What you went through was such long, long torture, he probably thought of you as a close friend by the time it was over.
ReplyDeleteI don't like the sweetheart thing unless it's from a significant other. She removed a permanent crown??!! I can't even imagine. I'm about to embark on an implant/crown journey (I hate dentists and they hate me)...I hope you're healing well. It's not an easy process.
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