Tales of the Invisible Ben

The Tooth Remains

And now, as a special Memorial Day event...the saga of the Invisible Ben and his perpendicular teeth continues! When last we left our hero and his maladjusted molars, plans were afoot for a surgery to terminate his dental dilemma once and for all. Unfortunately, like most of America's recent foreign policy initiatives in the Middle East, what was meant to be a swift, surgical operation quickly got bogged down in bureaucratic details, miscommunication, and poor planning.

Here's how it went down. Because the dentist who initially diagnosed my problem was not the preferred practitioner on my graduate student health plan, after a weekend on painkillers and penicillin, I called my officially-sanctioned dentist office on Monday morning. They asked me to come in, fill out some paperwork, and get another set of preliminary X-rays. Even though I had already: a. filled out the same set of paperwork the previous weekend b. obtained an X-ray on the same occassion AND c. signed a waiver allowing for the two offices to transfer my paperwork and records between one another, I went in and did what I was told. The diagnosis remained basically the same: horizontal wisdom tooth, needs to get looked at, etc., but this time the dental hygienist informed me of a heretofore unmentioned risk. The roots of the horizontal wisdom tooth were apparently quite close to the nerves in my lower jaw. Consequently, removal of the tooth could lead to permanent numbness throughout my chin, lips, etc. I was informed that I would discuss these issues on Friday with another dentist, after which if we agreed it was necessary, I could get my procedure.

Here is where things started to go wrong. Based on this conversation, I scheduled a Friday appointment and began to make plans for transportation. After all, if I were indeed going under the knife, I would likely be in no condition to drive myself home. I called on Tuesday to confirm that more likely than not I would be getting surgery and then started considering my options. Originally, I had hoped my girlfriend would be able to help out, but she would have to wait for the weekend because she would be preparing her seniors for their statistics final exam, Instead, the Invisible Mom volunteered for the task, arriving the night before for a tasty dinner and her first visit to the Invisible Commune. She came bearing gifts: a book of literary trivia, some frozen homemade soup, and, courtesy of the Invisible Dad, a pulse oximeter...just in case the dentist didn't happen to have one handy during the surgery. All in all, it was a nice evening. Mom was impressed by the local public library and its proximity to a high quality ice cream/coffee shop. But then, it was time to go home and rest up for the big day to come. On the advice of the Invisible Dad, I avoided eating or drinking anything after midnight in case I needed to be put under anesthesia.

This, however, turned out to be unnecessary, though I would not find out about it until later. Friday morning went basically according to plan, with the exception of some navigation-related confusion which confirmed the value of the Invisible Mom's in-car GPS system. We still arrived at the dentists in time for my 10 AM appointment. The dentist, an older gentleman who reminded me of a cross between Bob Hoskins and Burgess Meredith, met with us soon after. He took out a copy of the X-ray, placed it on the traditional backlit board, and proceeded to explain the internal anatomy of my skull. Apparently, I have the jaw of a boxer, cloudy sinuses due to allergies, and a wisdom tooth that should not be removed at this time. I expected only the second of these observations, and while the first was interesting, the third was rather disconcerting, especially given that it now seemed that I had basically forced the Invisible Mom to take a day off from work for nothing. But the dentist remained firm: the tooth was too close to the nerve and given that the pain had subsided along with the infection, it might not be necessary unless it became chronic.

All well and good, but not what I had been informed, not to mention the fact that I now had to live with a ticking time bomb of a tooth in my lower jaw waiting to impact forward into its nearest neighbor at any moment. Both my mother and I asked the dentist about possible alternatives and were only then informed that surgery would be IMPOSSIBLE at this location...they didn't have oral surgery facilities or equipment to complete this procedure! So much for the "more likely than not" promise of receptionists and dental hygienists. We had a rather tense chat with the office manager who promised that after the long weekend she would look into passing my case to a third facility that could actually do something to address the issue. But for now, we left, with all our teeth intact and a copy of the X-ray to pass on to the Invisible Dad for his consideration.

Honestly, I'm rather torn on the whole matter. On the one hand, if surgery is unnecessary, I'd be foolish to regret its absence. On the other, I have no doubt that a horizontal tooth is not something anyone should keep, given a choice. Similarly, though I feel badly that both my mother and girlfriend rearranged their schedule to help me recuperate, it was nice to have them visit. And while I look forward to getting some closure on the whole matter sometime this week, I'm afraid that neither of the options confrotning me are going to be particularly pleasant.

But at least I can enjoy my Memorial Day without ice packs and painkillers. If only I knew someone hosting a barbeque...