A year ago, I extracted Tooth #19 – the same day San Francisco went into shelter-in-place. This year hasn’t been easy but, somehow, I’ve learned to channel my negative emotions into some kind of humor.
The long-awaited crown was unsuccessful (again).
This time, the abutment was screwed into the implant but the crown did not feel right. It was probably a couple of millimeters higher than it should be but that was enough to cause a gap on the opposite molars and resulted in an incomplete bite.
I couldn’t see what was going on in my mouth, but I could feel some kind of tugging in it. I imagine the crown had been pushed into a tight space and had to be yanked out with great force. After several attempts, my gum felt sore and my neck began to hurt.
It was then, Doctor C requested for Doctor L. The latter suggested that we redo the whole thing (again). My body was aching after lying at an angle for one and a half hours.
I took a picture of my teeth mold and thought to myself, the next time I see it, there’ll be another date. Time flies so quickly even when things are not going right. Look on the bright side anyway. Third time lucky, they all seem to say.
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