One of the benefits of being a certain age is you can really
appreciate changes you've seen in the long span of your own life. Take
dentistry, for example. People of a certain age are likely to have been
so traumatized as children by their often hideous experiences in the dentist's
chair -- in my case, drills that ran on wheels and a pulley that felt like it
was being powered by hamsters -- that even the mention of the word
"dentist" would send them diving under the bed in terror. Even a
relatively short time ago, getting a crown was a messy, multi-visit piece
of awfulness involving drool and spit and bone-rattling drilling.
Well, no more. A few days ago, I had to go get two crowns
and a root canal to save my poor 50+ year-old wisdom tooth. I was dreading the
day because throughout my life every time anyone used the word "root
canal," the response was a ghastly scream and a shudder. But I
was delightedly dumbfounded to learn how far dentistry has come in just a few
years. My local Los Osos dentist, Dr. Duffy DeGraw, took over from my
(retired) dentist and he's a young whippersnapper out of school with all the
latest up-to-date learning, technical know-how and a sincere commitment to
keep the patient pain-free and comfortable, right down to asking you what kind
of music you want to listen to during the procedure. (They weren't offering a
small glass of fine wine, but I suspect that'll be next. )
So, I'm laying there midway through all the high-speed
whizz-banging and I feel them sticking some kind of something into my mouth and
hear a rapid tick-tick-tick-tick. Puzzled, I ask what's going on and sit
up to see Dr. Duffy working on an odd-looking machine with a flat screen
on top, and on the screen was a 3-D topographical map of my jaw
and teeth in all their weird computer-generated glory. (Creepy, too,
because my disembodied jaw on the screen resembled some sort of prehistoric
Megalosaur's choppers.)
The tick-tick-tick was the laser "reading" the
topography of my teeth and jaw, which it then generated into the 3-D
teeth image (which could be turned every way but loose on the screen.)
Dr. Duffy then proceeded to make various marks on the screen, outlining the
perimeters he wanted, then, basically, hit the "print" button.
He asked if I wanted to go see what happens next, so I
scampered into the lab room. There, a machine was set to go. Between
two very small drills was a block of porcelain. The drills started spinning, zeeeet-zeeeet-zeeet,
amidst cooling water jets, drilling out and forming a perfectly carved out
porcelain "crown." First one was cut free and fell with a plop into
the catch-bin. Then it was ready for a new cube for a new crown. .
With a bit of trying on, the crowns were then heat-annealed
to full hardness, then dropped down on my teeth, glued in place, and out the
door I went. 2 1/2 hours start to finish.
And the only pain involved was to my bank account.
Amazing!
2 comments:
Hilarious column and I sure know what you mean! AND - Duffy is the greatest!
Wonderful! You've certainly relieved some of my up-coming stress. Caroline
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