Much more a marathon than a sprint, after 8 months, I’m finally on the dental home straight: taking moulds and fitting crowns.
I’m back at my dentists who is so used to seeing me that we are now on first name terms. Not really what you want, polite as it is.
As the implant abutment has been successfully fitted, we can now move on to taking moulds and replacing the broken crown on the tooth sitting next to the missing tooth. Now I truly feel as if I’m getting somewhere, dentally-speaking that is.
Removing the Old Crown
First up, remove the old crown. It’s been through hell and back – chipped, pushed back and eased forward again, filed down… So, it’s well past its sell by date. For my dentist, it was a routine procedure. After a quick and near-painless injection of local anaesthetic in my upper front gum, he whipped out my personal neurosis: the DRILL.
Without a moments thought, he dislodged the disfigured piece of porcelain that was once a decent crown accompanied by the excruciating, screeching drone of the drill. Like a much-played tune from the devil’s own playlist, I tried manfully to think of something, anything, to take my mind off that sound.
But it was soon over and now I had a much larger gap between my teeth, with just a darkended stump remaining where my crown had once been.
Next step? Take a mould of my upper front row of teeth (and missing teeth). It’s better to get both my crowns made at the same time as it will be a much better colour match. So these moulds are vital to crafting the very best crowns for my beleaguered teeth. My dentist prepared a lilac-coloured sticky mass and filled a blue plastic mould with it. He then pressed it to my upper gum and held it in place for 5 minutes or so to make sure it set firmly. To get as accurate an impression as possible, I had to remain completely still and avoid swallowing. Not easy when you have sarcoidosis.
After removing the mould and preparing it to go to the lab, my dentist asked me how it tasted. Weird, unpleasant but not terrible. I didn’t feel like gagging. Apparently, some people think it tastes like a stiff gin and tonic. I hate gin and tonic.
The last act to perform in this visit was to fit a temporary crown and slightly adjust my rather sad looking denture. The crown is actually a better fit than the last one and now hides the blackened stump that was, once upon a time, a living tooth.
After 40 minutes, I leave the drillers with a new crown and an appointment in early November to finally, mercifully, fix my teeth.
It’s been a long time coming but I can’t wait.