‘Just a little pinch from the anesthesia.’
The doctor spoke while poking around my mouth with a slender needle. At first, my gums felt a sting, then gradually grew numb like a stranger’s skin. Almost like the rigid flesh of a body starting to stiffen after it’s gone. 💉
‘I thought getting an implant meant planting a tooth right away.’
‘Everyone thinks that way. It’s not like catching a cold or having a tummy bug that you experience often from childhood. But you know, your teeth hadn’t even erupted yet, right? Logically, there’s nothing to plant. Haha.’
Suddenly, I felt my face flush with embarrassment. 😳
‘I thought maybe you had prepped something from the X-rays we took earlier.’
‘That’s all two-dimensional. To make a perfect fit, you can’t rely on just that. Weren’t you the one studying engineering?’
‘Haha. Just kidding.’
Should’ve just kept quiet. 🤦♂️
‘Wait in the lobby for about 20 minutes. That should be enough for the anesthesia to kick in. Once it does, we’ll get started right away.’
While waiting and Googling implants, I heard the doctor call me back. Returning to the surgery chair, I pondered how to regain my dignity. Meanwhile, two nurses approached, one standing behind the doctor and the other to my left.
‘This might be simple, but it’s still surgery. We’ll disinfect around your mouth and cover your face with a drape.’
The moment the doctor began wiping around my mouth with a disinfectant swab, a chill ran through my body. When the surgical drape covered my face, everything turned dark. My mouth probably looked like a hole on a golf green. The doctor did mention he loves golf. 🏌️♂️
‘Just need a flagstick now…’
The doctor mumbled to himself.
‘Why cover with a drape when disinfecting? Doesn’t seem to relate to hygiene, does it?’
‘Looking at red for long hours tires the eyes and leaves afterimages. We need to drill into the gum bone, not your cheeks. Haha.’
That’s a big no-no.
‘Today, we’re doing the implant base, drilling into the gum bone to place the fixture. Then, we attach a cover screw. And that’s it.’
‘What’s a cover screw?’
‘Later, when we connect the artificial tooth to the fixture in your gum bone with an abutment, we need to pre-align it. Think of it like buttoning up.’
‘Buttoning up? On teeth?’
The doctor ignored my question and continued.
‘Let’s see if the anesthesia’s set in. Can you feel anything?’
‘It feels like tapping on a distant wall.’
‘I haven’t touched it yet…’
I wanted a moment to brace myself, never expecting the doctor to tease.
‘Let’s just get started.’
‘Wait a second!’
‘… Why?’
‘What if the anesthesia hasn’t fully set in?’
‘You’re holding your tooth without noticing.’
‘Really?’
‘That’s a lie. If you were, you wouldn’t be talking so comfortably.’
At this point, I just wanted it over. 🤷♂️
‘Pass me the 10mm drill.’
A nurse handed something hefty to the doctor.
‘Open wide, drop your jaw.’
‘Ah….’
‘Don’t lift your chin, touch your neck. Can’t you do that?’
‘What?’
‘Nothing, just talking to myself. If saliva builds up during surgery, don’t worry. The nurses will suction it. If you feel it pooling, just swallow it. Got it? Seriously, aim your chin at your chest.’
‘.. Whose chest?’
‘Yours, obviously!’
‘Left side?’
‘I’ll handle it.’
The doctor pushed down on my jaw as he spoke.
‘The vibration might feel stronger than it is, so don’t be scared.’
‘Brrrrr…’
A slight pain tingled under my molar in the alveolar bone. Dang, is the anesthesia not fully working? But I could bear it. However, a 10mm drill means one centimeter; how big a hole are they making? A centimeter-wide drill could wreck the whole area. I felt a jolt of fear. Maybe I should’ve asked for a one-millimeter drill, and they mistakenly thought I meant ten. But the doctor wouldn’t want to admit that mistake. (I wouldn’t either) They must be trying to make it work with a ten-millimeter drill. Staying positive, but can they really create a centimeter-wide screw hole? That could probably fix a table leg. 😬
‘Now, the 12mm drill.’
This was definitely a moment where I couldn’t keep silent.
‘Hey, doc…!’
‘Yes? Hold on. Suction here, please.’
A nurse quickly suctioned near my molar’s alveolar bone. Blood they didn’t catch slid down my throat, leaving a metallic taste.
‘Isn’t a centimeter too wide?’
‘… It’s the length.’
‘The length of what?’
‘The drill’s length is a centimeter, not the width.’
‘Oh… oh… got it.’
I couldn’t say a word until the surgery ended. 🤐
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