Floss, Floss, Floss

Yesterday, as I reclined (for five hours mind you) in the form-fitting contour chair made of expensive Italian leather at the periodontist's office, I mused on the things that brought me to that posture.

The periodontist and all seven of his beautiful and effective assistants crowded their latex-gloved fingers in my mouth. They dabbed and wiped and handed off instruments while he inserted NINE FOOT LONG needles into the seemingly impenetrable boney areas around my teeth (I could almost swear I felt the end of the needle poking around my elbows). Believe it or not, he even made deep injections across the very roof of my mouth.

The assistants talked about the instruments and my teeth and thumped or jiggled my cheeks, all while referring to me in the third person as if I wasn't there (most patients aren't all there, electing to have some sort of "twilight" experience with heavy sedation, but not me, I talk in my sleep).

Anyway, within minutes of the injections, my entire mouth, upper and lower jaw, lips, cheeks and disconcerting part of my nose were "cold chicken in the 'fridge" -numb to the touch.

At that point, I attempted to introduce the concept that I was in fact, AWAKE and interested in the procedure, but the best I could enunciate around the fingers, instruments and gauze in my mouth, and in the face of the numbing effects of the anesthetic was "fla flsh fwrabberl." One of the assistants immediately handed the doctor the syringe so he could deliver more of the numbing elixir.

The anesthetic was effective. Despite the ear piercing whine of the ultra sonic root scraper and an infinite amount of poking and prodding, I felt essentially nothing. Even hours later when the procedure was complete, my mouth was still so numb that when I tried to rinse, my "dribble lips" wouldn't close tightly enough to retain the mouthwash. What a mess. I laughed as the blue mouthwash Niagra'ed down the front of my white shirt. One of the beautiful assistants hugged me as she smiled as she dabbed my bearded chin (most of her sedated patients don't usually dribble, they just stumble around the room like a bear with red eye whisky).

She told me the numbness would begin to wear off shortly, and she was indeed, correct. In fact, by the time I made it to the car, one side of my face was fully awake, even though the other remained completely immovable. As a result, for the next hour, my speech was still too slurred for cell phone use, but I could Elvis-smile without any effort (a useful skill if pulled over for not paying the fare on the tollway, but that's another story).

What got me to this sad state you might ask.

Well, I recall talking to our dentist in San Antonio years ago, when we were young and invulnerable, asking "do we have to floss all our teeth, its so difficult."

He replied, "no. . . only the ones you want to keep."

Well I didn't believe him, and in fact there are options.

For instance, deep root scaling can clean off years of plaque buildup and help in restoring diseased gums caused by not flossing.

And, bone grafting, while more aggressive, can rebuild the foundation that so quickly disintegrates with untreated gum disease.

Both of these options are tolerable, and in my experience, not painful. And because they are fairly expensive, both certainly demonstrate a commitment to keeping your teeth.

But, as I take tongue from my fully restored cheek, let me point out that neither are as easy or simple as flossing every day.

Try it. I do (now).

©2007 David R. Childress. All Rights Reserved.