“Do you have any questions about the procedure? Anything we can do to make you more comfortable?”
It had been a 2 mile drive to Dr. La Rosa’a tastefully appointed and very empty offices in the Soundview Building, hard by the stat of the Cushman trail, where I routinely do interval run sessions when the track is too muddy. I could have run from home, except they called about an hour before I was due there, and asked if I could come in right away; one patient had cancelled that morning, and I could get going pronto.
The light snowfall overnight had dropped a fine lather of flakes on the droopy hemlock trees. I pointed out to Annie this should remind her of her upcoming 5 week long visit to our house in Snowmass, CO, for snowboarding with her brother Cody before she takes off for a semester abroad in Taipei.
After laying out the cost of a new Jetta on my credit card, on the chance Group Health didn’t really mean it when they sent me the coverage approved letter, one of Dr. Manny’s seemingly endless supply of support staff strolled me into a spare, but sunny dental procedure room. No operating table, no anesthesia machine, just a friendly suite, and yes I did have a question.
“I have this swallowing thing; I just don’t want to drown. As far as the procedure itself, no worries. Dr. La Rosa is the man, I trust him completely.”
“Well”, she replied, “ my only job for the next three hours is to keep that suction going in your mouth so Dr. can see and you can breath! Anything else we can do to make sure you feel comfortable?”
“Well, you could untie my shoes …”
In a flash, like a good first-class flight attendant, not only did she untie them, she took them off, plopped a pillow under my knees, took my glasses, and … that’s about it. I woke up 3 hours later hoping they’d ask if I was hurting at all, as the Dr. was still putting a few stitches on the right side, and I did have this little high pitched tingling there. I mean, they’d been so solicitous up to now (except for that little thing about $15,995).
ZAP! in goes the Fentanyl, and I was once more floating away … to the groovy circular dental X-Ray room, where I got to see Manny’s handiwork. First, flap open the gum where my nine front lower teeth used to be. Then, slit open some skin a bit higher up in my jaw to take some seed bone. Place it in a titanium mesh in the exposed hole, fill in with Bone Morphogenic Protein, hold in place with more titanium mesh and screws, then cover it all with some skin graft from under my tongue. Simple, eh?
Now all I have to do is wait 4-8 months (I’m suspecting the latter due to my age and ongoing neuro-muscular healing) for the bone to grow into a nice facsimile of an alveolar plate to hold MORE titanium screws. Wait for them to set firmly in place (another 4-8 months???) until finally Dr. Silvia La Rosa (his wife) can put my new teeth in place.
Yes, all I want for Christmas ( for NEXT Christmas, I guess), is my new front teeth.
……………….
The after effects of this surgery are not quite as bad as advertised. True, I can’t eat anything except that liquid stuff I was on for tube feedings three months ago. And Cheryl did say I look like Homer Simpson, what with the lower half of my face quite swollen (but at least not bruised). But the percocet and vicodin I have probably really isn’t needed. And the methylprednisolone I’m taking does help me to get to sleep at night. Two different antibiotics, another anti-inflammatory, and thrice a day industrial strength mouth wash complete my pharmacopeia.
I think I should be ready to get back in the weight room tomorrow, two days after the surgery, and then start up bike and run training over the weekend, on New Year’s Day. A good little rest, and maybe good for me, too