It wasn't too bad

I have periodontal disease. It runs in my family, so it was inevitable, really, that it would find me. My dentist and I have known about it for some time and for some time it was stable. I was keeping up with it. Ever since Kathleen was born, however, it stepped things up a notch. I wasn't changing my brushing or flossing routine that had served me so well for so long, but things were getting worse. My dentist referred me to a periodontist. Last May I finally got up the nerve to make an appointment.

My teeth and gums aren't terrible, but looking at the X-rays the perio took, even I could see how much bone was missing around my lower teeth. It was eroding in other areas, too, but that was the most obvious. We began with cleaning and scaling, a cleaning much like you'd get at your general dentists office but much, much more thorough. It's so thorough that they only do a quarter of your mouth at a time and offer numbing agents if needed. I managed to get through it pretty comfortably with just numbing gel. Many people opt for the full Novocain.

The cleaning and scaling helped. My gums improved to the point where I can notice the difference. But it wasn't enough. We moved on to the next step - gum restoration - the first series of which took place yesterday. I believe the surgery is called pocket depth reduction.

About 90 minutes before my appointment I took some Ativan to help calm my nerves. I was surprisingly calm before that, so I questioned whether I needed it, but in the end I decided that they prescribed it and thus were basing their next steps on my taking it. It didn't do much but put me off balance. Literally. I can see why they insist that you have someone drive you in while you're on that.

After I was seated in the chair, they covered me with one of the blankets they keep on hand for patients who complain of being chilly. That's apparently a common side effect of the Ativan. Let me tell you, it gives you a cozy comfortable feeling, something you never expect to feel in a dentist's chair. I'd recommend it. Then they placed the numbing gel - tons of it at my request - let it do its thing, and shot in the Novocain. That's usually the most painful part of any dental procedure. I hate getting Novocain. But they gave me enough numbing gel and - what's more important - gave it the time it needed to work before proceeding with the needles. It made all the difference in the world.

I don't remember too much about the procedure itself. I had my iPhone and a downloaded Jane Austen novel to keep me distracted. I didn't feel anything but the sensation of scraping. I don't know when they cut open my gums or stitched them back together. They used a cavitron to deep clean the exposed pockets and what I swear was a sander. That must have been to smooth out the bone so they could give the gums a smoother surface on which they could attach (tasted horrible, whatever it was).

And that was that. The procedure was over in about an hour. I felt little beyond a couple of pricks as they injected the novocain. After that, nothing.

Oh, I should note that they gave me the option of having some other numbing agent injected part way through the procedure. Let me emphasize that I did not need it. I still felt nothing. It was optional, but it lasts two times longer than the novocain and would enable me to get to the pharmacy and home before I began to feel anything. I took them up on it.

Recovery hasn't been bad. Mind you, it's been less than 24 hours. I've used the ice pack on and off to keep swelling down. I've taken the pain meds. It doesn't hurt so much as it feels uncomfortable. It feels vaguely like it used to when I'd have my braces tightened except that the discomfort it much more minor. It could be the pain medication doing that. I don't care. Whatever it is, it's not bad at all.

The reason I'm writing this is because there are so many horror stories on the internet regarding periodontal procedures. Just as with pregnancy and labor, people only seem inclined to tell their stories when they're the worst possible scenarios. You're going to die. You'll be in more pain during and after than you can possibly imagine, and it will last for months - no, years! - before it begins to fade . . . if it ever begins to fade. Your life as you know it is ending. The moment you walk through those office doors, you're facing the executioner.  It just makes you want to hide your head in the sand.

So for anyone who had found this blog because you want just one story which can give you hope that this isn't the end of the world, here it is. There are more out there, too, I promise. You just have to be careful looking for them lest you innocently find yourself amidst one of the you're-about-to-enter-hell-on-earth stories. I welcome all others to post who have had similar experiences. I warn you, though, if you post a horror story comment on this blog or anything that does not have a happy ending, I'm going to delete it. We have too many nightmares out there now. This posting will not be one of them.