Last week I received a call from my dentist's office: my new tooth was in and ready for installation. I gingerly cleared my afternoon schedule and zoomed over for the upgrade from my temporary tooth. My dentist, ever the great man he is, slipped on the temporary for my approval before permanently gluing it to my implant. I said "looks good to me." Apparently I lacked conviction. He had me stand in a different light. Still looked good. Then another light. Kinda' O.K. still. Then in indirect sunlight. Maybe a little gray.
Seeing that I was still satisfied in any light, my dentist had a gaggle of dental technicians look at my tooth. It was a rather odd to have so many people peering at my mouth. All agreed that the replacement tooth was "too white" compared to my other teeth. Thanks a lot guys. But they were right. It was not only too white, it was in fact grayish looking. So I rejected the new tooth, which is ironic because that is what my body did to my old tooth
My dentist was very pleased as he was not going to let me leave with a tooth that was too white/grayish in certain light. Then my office visit became a multiple office visit. My dentist uses a ceramatist (a.k.a. a fake tooth maker) who works across town, i.e. as far away as possible and still be considered the same metro area. He had me drive there with the fake tooth still in my mouth. The fake tooth maker works in an incredibly small, dingy, and unsafe looking laboratory. The "receptionist" was watching TV when I arrived. The fake tooth maker is a tall, lanky, man with a very fat chin and even larger mustache. He was a very quiet man. After assessing my tooth, he said only this, "we'll give it another shot". It didn't seem worth a quarter tank of gas to hear that.
So I gave the fake tooth back to my dentist and scheduled a new appointment. I wonder what happens to unused fake teeth? Perhaps some needy soul has a mouth full of inappropriately sized fake teeth of varying degrees of whiteness.
Tagged: personal stories