Chris Dwan

Tag: health

  • More generally, I wish to re-open the ‘northern passages’ between my sinuses and the outside world. Suggestions?

  • Dentist

    I spent somewhere between three and four hours in the dentist’s chair today. As previously mentioned, we have the medical insurance that is made out of pure awesome … so I’m taking the opportunity to just do whatever the nice people tell me I ought to do. This includes a “veneer” to permanently repair a tooth that I broke in half (diagonally, faceplant in a gravel driveway, thanks for asking) when I was 14. Today was, it turns out, day one of two for the veneer.

    So first, they numbed my mouth up like there was no tomorrow. Easily the best anesthesia I’ve ever experienced. First the q-tip of local under the lip, then the pressure of the shot, and then the upper left quadrant of my mouth was dead to the world for three hours.

    Now it gets horrifying: The veneer is a hollow mold of a tooth that sits over a sort of post made out of the original tooth. That post is just big enough to provide structural stability and a home for the ever so delicate tooth nerve. They took a big ass dental drill and whittled my tooth down into what my mother used to call a “nubbin.” It was … disheartening to look in the mirror and see one of my teeth reduced to a little post.

    They had taken a negative impression of my teeth before. Now they took another negative with Mr. Nubbin in place. They plan to send these two molds (inside and outside) to “The Lab” so that they can fabricate a “veneer” made out of pure rubidium, or porcelain, or something. In the meantime, they made a temporary custom tooth for me. Same idea, much faster. I cannot tell you how weird it is to have someone popping a tooth cap onto and off of a nubbin-post in your mouth, all the while talking about how cool the movie “Persepolis” is.

    In two weeks I go back, they pop off the temporary and glue on the permanent. Good as new!

    The materials at these people’s disposal are amazing. They have tubes of stuff that are liquid until mixed … which then become, for lack of a better word, TOOTH in about two minutes. They have crap to dissolve the first materials. They have pastes that turn into TOOTH when you shine UV lights on them. Amazing, I tell you.

    Last, but not least, I wish to share with you about “lip retractors.”

    Actually, not I don’t. Just, if you don’t know about lip retractors, be glad.

    I’m gonna go have a beer now.

  • For $15 you play all day

    Got my money’s worth out of the health insurance today.

    First, the dentist. A second very, very detailed exam by a dental intern (is there such a thing? Is it called the zamboogen-year or something … or can I just call them interns?). I’ll be back tomorrow for my 2 fillings. In a week I’ll be going in for a “veneer” to replace a “temporary” reconstruction I got back when I was, like 15. Why not?

    Then, back to the doctor. Hey doc, your antibiotics didn’t do a darn thing about my cough (I’ve named it “Lungfish,” by the way). The doctor seemed smart, and he listened to me. That’s all I ask, really. So I got nasal steroids, a super-duper inhaler (literally, albuterol on steroids), an appointment for a “spirometry” test where I blow … as hard as I can, and a chest X-ray. We talked about the fact that I live with cats (just like I have for a decade now), and also that I do get some exercise, from time to time.

    My chest X-ray was “negative.” I found this unsatisfying and pestered my medical family for a better answer. “Negative” is a sign. It’s a polarity. It’s not an interpretation of a picture, unless we’re talking pure artistic opinion. I was told that “negative,” is relative to the detective power of the picture in screening for heart disease, various forms of lung gunk, neck gunk, and other gunk.

    So the plan is that I snort the rose-smelling steroids and breathe the minty gasses every day for two weeks. If I go back and “it worked,” then I we smile at each other and call the fact that I have to do this for the rest of my life “Asthma.” Or maybe we tell each other some story about snot dripping down my throat and irritating my bronchi.

    Or something. I don’t know.

    Hopefully by the time my follow-up comes around, I’ll have my 23 and me results to bring in. “Hey! I got my genome done, wanna see?” If he reacts with any sort of curiosity at all, he’s got a patient for life.

    All this for $15, plus the co-pay on the prescriptions. Not bad, says I.