Friday May 14 2010
130 days since accident
107 days in Colorado
This morning I took dad to an oral surgeon to have his last two middle, lower teeth (canines) removed. The place operated like a well-oiled machine, with people coming and going every 20 minutes. Dad was no exception, even with one of the canines cracked near the gum line; he was done in less than 20 minutes. His bottom lip was quite swollen, the teeth were brittle, and the doctor had to take them out in pieces, leaving dad with a couple of stitches. There was no doubt in my mind that dad would, in a very short amount of time, feel indescribable pain. I filled the pain medicine (vicodin) prior to the visit so I would be prepared, and gave him one on the way home.
Once home I cleaned up dads’ face and replaced the blood-soaked gauze in his mouth. I gave him an ice pack to help reduce the swelling around his mouth, and put the television on until he fell asleep. Yesterday, I made butterscotch pudding, raspberry Jello, and two kinds of hearty soup. I also bought a variety of beverages and popsicles to keep him well hydrated.
I continued to give him a pain pill plus an anti-inflammatory pill throughout the rest of the day and into the evening.
My son was having a few friends over to celebrate his 16th birthday. Fortunately, it was a movie party, and away from the house. I left my husband home while I drove the boys to the theater and got them settled in with popcorn and then came back a couple of hours later to pick them up.
I was up for most of the night to check on dad and make sure he was resting comfortably. I knew I would be in for a long weekend.
Showing posts with label oral surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oral surgery. Show all posts
Monday, May 17, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
The Dentures Last Bite
Friday May 7 2010
122 days since accident
99 days in Colorado
It has been three months since dad received his dentures and I finally got up the nerve to request a refund. It was obvious to me that the dentist was not going to claim defeat, and my dad, although he constantly complained about the dentures while at home, would become indecisive while at the dentist office.
Upon arrival, the receptionist immediately took dad to one of the patient rooms. I was surprised because I thought they would just hand dad his refund check and send us on our way. Instead, the dentist came in and asked dad what he wanted to do about the dentures. Dad looked up at the dentist and said, “I don’t know what I want myself.” Not very good at concealing my emotions, I must have shot my dad a dirty look because he sat up in the chair and said, “It is my mouth, you stay out of it!”
Maybe I was wrong to get so upset, but I confronted both the dentist and dad. I told the dentist that he should have instructed dad weeks ago, that he would not do any further adjustments until dad agreed to wear the dentures, as instructed, for a full week. I then turned to dad and said he should not agree to wear the dentures when he knows that he won’t (wear them).
Dad looked at the dentist and said he would promise to wear the dentures for a full week and wanted to give it one more chance. In agreement, the dentist wanted dad for a couple of hours to try a different approach to reducing the movement and placement of the appliances. I really didn’t have two hours to sit in the waiting room and asked if I could leave dad while I ran a couple of errands and picked up the kids at school.
I received a telephone call about two hours later – evidentially, the dentist tightened the bottom partial too much and when he pushed it down onto dad’s two remaining teeth, it hit a nerve or something and my dad cried out in horrific pain. He closed his mouth and refused to allow the dentist to do anything further. The dentist actually wanted me to come back and convince dad to open his mouth; when I arrived my dad was waiting for me and told me he was done with this dentist and the dentures. I signed the release papers, gathered up dad and his belongings, and high-tailed it out of there!
My father was furious not at himself, but at me for not standing up to the dentist, and refused to speak to me for the rest of the day. Two days later, he announced that his bottom tooth was cracked and he wanted me to call the dentist to pull the tooth! I must have called three or four dentists and each one was more expensive than the last. Embarrassed, I had no choice but to call the original dentist, the receptionist was very kind and explained that they would not be able to do the extraction because the teeth in question are canines. Generally, canines are the last to fall out and in dad’s case; they were anchored well into the bone requiring surgery to remove. Fortunately, they had a referral of an oral surgeon and gave me dad’s x-rays, and I was able to make an appointment for next Friday.
122 days since accident
99 days in Colorado
It has been three months since dad received his dentures and I finally got up the nerve to request a refund. It was obvious to me that the dentist was not going to claim defeat, and my dad, although he constantly complained about the dentures while at home, would become indecisive while at the dentist office.
Upon arrival, the receptionist immediately took dad to one of the patient rooms. I was surprised because I thought they would just hand dad his refund check and send us on our way. Instead, the dentist came in and asked dad what he wanted to do about the dentures. Dad looked up at the dentist and said, “I don’t know what I want myself.” Not very good at concealing my emotions, I must have shot my dad a dirty look because he sat up in the chair and said, “It is my mouth, you stay out of it!”
Maybe I was wrong to get so upset, but I confronted both the dentist and dad. I told the dentist that he should have instructed dad weeks ago, that he would not do any further adjustments until dad agreed to wear the dentures, as instructed, for a full week. I then turned to dad and said he should not agree to wear the dentures when he knows that he won’t (wear them).
Dad looked at the dentist and said he would promise to wear the dentures for a full week and wanted to give it one more chance. In agreement, the dentist wanted dad for a couple of hours to try a different approach to reducing the movement and placement of the appliances. I really didn’t have two hours to sit in the waiting room and asked if I could leave dad while I ran a couple of errands and picked up the kids at school.
I received a telephone call about two hours later – evidentially, the dentist tightened the bottom partial too much and when he pushed it down onto dad’s two remaining teeth, it hit a nerve or something and my dad cried out in horrific pain. He closed his mouth and refused to allow the dentist to do anything further. The dentist actually wanted me to come back and convince dad to open his mouth; when I arrived my dad was waiting for me and told me he was done with this dentist and the dentures. I signed the release papers, gathered up dad and his belongings, and high-tailed it out of there!
My father was furious not at himself, but at me for not standing up to the dentist, and refused to speak to me for the rest of the day. Two days later, he announced that his bottom tooth was cracked and he wanted me to call the dentist to pull the tooth! I must have called three or four dentists and each one was more expensive than the last. Embarrassed, I had no choice but to call the original dentist, the receptionist was very kind and explained that they would not be able to do the extraction because the teeth in question are canines. Generally, canines are the last to fall out and in dad’s case; they were anchored well into the bone requiring surgery to remove. Fortunately, they had a referral of an oral surgeon and gave me dad’s x-rays, and I was able to make an appointment for next Friday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
