Yahoo! Mail (you know, the system with non-existent spam filters) has been balky all day. So anyone expecting to hear from me who doesn't should know that it is nothing personal. Having lost a couple of composed messages already, I've given up on it for the moment. I hope the problem is fixed soon, but it is beyond my control.
In other news, I'm back from la dentista, starving as I didn't have any lunch, with the drooling semi-facial paralysis characteristic of residual anaesthetic effects. Hungrily eyeing the delicious-looking mush that I can look forward to gumming down later this evening. But I look forward to going back tomorrow to having my two shiny new implants put in, and to greatly improved masticating abilities in the days ahead. Maybe I should alert the local restaurateurs* to get ready to put another steak on the parrilla.
You may wonder why I seem to spend so much time at the dentist when I come to Argentina. I think the real puzzle is why more people don't. Even factoring in the airfare down here, it will still cost me far less than it would have done in San Francisco (and my experience with Kaiser's dentists has been less than stellar). In addition to being completely charming, Doctora Marisol was extremely professional, obviously very competent, and spoke perfect English. Plus I can kid myself that it's an adventure down here and pretend that I'm having fun. More easily than at home anyway. However, it would be nice if the fillings that I got during my twenties would stop lodging themselves in whatever I happen to be eating at the time. But maybe, like artificial joint replacements, there is some kind of natural life expectancy for dental work.
*: this word was extraordinarily difficult to type correctly; even now I'm not sure I managed to do so.
The plain people of Ireland: Here, this is very boring today. Reading this entry is like being in the dentist's chair.
MOTP: That may be the case, but at least it doesn't take two hours and leave you with a semi-paralyzed face like a drooling idiot. Anyway, what do you expect, wretches? Life isn't all beer and skittles, you know.
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4 comments:
Since writing this post, I have it on reliable authority that the expected 'mouth-life' of your average composite filling is indeed thirty years. To quote my source: "anything longer than that is gravy".
This is oddly comforting news, as it suggests that my recent spate of filling misadventures (five within the last two years) is not necessarily my own fault. Though my fillings do appear to be taking that 30-year limit at face value, practically leaping out of my mouth when their allotted time is up.
Fortunately, these days, advances in dental technology seem to have come up with replacement options that are far more palatable (groan!) than would have been possible, say, a few generations ago. I can still remember the mixture of horror and fascination occasioned by one of my grandmothers removing her dentures in front of us kids.
I snapped a photo of dental instruments in a dental supply store window in B.A. but didn't have the heart to show it to you until you went under the drill, as it were. Alas, I can't figure out how to upload a photo to your blog so will email it to you.
This makes me want to postpone finding a new dentist and paying $2,000 for a new inlay. It makes more economic sense to return to B.A. and your kind dentist, don't you think?
Way too much information.
I go back on Monday for a root canal ('el conducto'). Watch this space for a blow-by-blow (I mean a scrape-by-scrape) update.
But with a complete exam, two inlays, root canal, and a post and crown coming in at around 1600 dollars, who can blame me? The cost in the U.S. would be three to four times that amount.
The fact that the charming Doctora Marisol is a demented perfectionist (let me assure anyone reading this that I mean it as a profound compliment) is just icing on the cake. Sweet, yummy, tooth-rotting icing.
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