after my first appt

Well, I'm back from my appointment with Dr. Bryant. I might as well use his full name, because after all, he has a website, and while the news is bad, I think I trust him.

I arrived at 10:20, already shaking with fear. Filled out the necessary forms, front desk was somewhat chaotic and while there was a veneer of friendliness, I still had that humiliation fear thing happening, and imagined they were all secretly recoiling every time I opened my mouth. I told them I had anxiety, and there were the usual assurances of gentleness, etc. After filling out the forms, I sat for about 18 minutes before the hygenist, "L" called me into her office. She said, "Here for a cleaning and checkup?" I said no, and my voice started shaking. I coudln't control myself very well, and my voice was loud and husky. I told her the last 3 dentists I went to said a cleaning was useless unless it was one of those deep scaling/planing ones. I was also crying. I asked if there wasn't a door on the exam room, and she said, no, none of the work stations had doors. She then invited me in to the conference room, which did have a door. We sat and talked, I told her a little about my previous experiences. The only time my tears dried up temporarily was when I told her I was blogging about all this. (I think that's because I feel that this blog is a form of control -- something one doesn't have any of in a dentist's office.)

We agreed to take x-rays. I asked her if they were digital and she said yes. 70% less radiation, but you still have to hold the hideous little thing in your mouth and sit very still while it digs into your soft tissue. She did 18 x-rays. It took about half an hour. Then I sat there crying while she charted my root canals, fillings, etc She would look at a tooth and then start clicking on the computer. I imagined that each click meant something horrible (and it did). She told me that if I were to have the deep cleaning, it would take 5 visits. One for each quadrant, and a fifth to simply go over things again. I took a deep breath and said okay.

She then went to get Dr. Bryant.

He was a nice man, gentle with the instruments but blunt in his manner. After having me nearly upside down in the damn chair for half an hour he pronounced that I was going to lose all my teeth. There was nothing he could do. He gave me three options:

1. get them all pulled now and get dentures
2. get partials or implants as each tooth fell apart, over time
3. begin a restoration process that would probably lead to me having all implants

I cried some more, bit my lip, and when I started to speak I didn't recognize my own voice. "You have a website," I said, "where you show people whose teeth have to be worse than mine, and who now have gorgeous smiles. Are you telling me that with all the fabulous inovations in dentistry there's nothing you can do for me?"

"We can do restorative work," he said, "and we can do amazing things."

"But," I said, "it sounds as though you're saying there's nothing you can do for me."

"Oh," he replied, "I think we can do some restorative work on you."

Now, you have to remember I was in quite a state, and I don't recall exactly what was said, what was promised, what was arranged. All I know is that I said I wanted whatever restorative work he could do, I did not want dentures, and I was willing to do whatever it took to get a decent smile back.

I'm not sure what he said at that point. But there was talk of periodontal this and that and mention that it would be a long haul, and I just kept looking out the window and nodding.

The upshot is that I go back on Monday morning at 8 am for some kind of pre-treatment session where they'll take measurements, do some diagnostic work, "talk about cost", and so forth.

So now I'm home, with a blinding headache, miserable.