Farewell!

 

Farewell!

                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The troublesome tooth, which is not at all troublesome, but might be so at an unspecified time in the future, must be extracted, following the two thirds root canal process.

I have four choices following the extraction – leave it and live with the gap, have a partial denture, fit a bridge or have a dental implant. It is a molar so not particularly noticeable when I smile. If I were 30, I would probably opt for an implant, but I’m not, so I won’t. A bridge would compromise the tooth to which it would be attached. I don’t like things in my mouth that don’t belong there, like a denture, however snugly it might fit, so I choose to have a space where no space was before.

Of course, I would have a replacement of some sort if the troublesome tooth were one of the ‘shop front’ teeth. I don’t think I’m especially vain, though others might disagree, but a yawning gap would be hard to ignore and although I am literally tight-lipped, even I would find talking and smiling difficult without opening my mouth.  

 Dentistry has come a long way since the yank ‘em out days, which is good, of course. There are many choices to be made and great and growing expertise among our dental surgeons. People now do not generally have all their teeth extracted as a 21^st birthday or wedding present, as was common in the early 20^th century. That was considered preferable to potentially suffering a lifetime of pain from infections.

Until the 19^th century, tooth extractions were performed by blacksmiths and barbers, but false teeth were made as far back as 2500 B.C. Then they were made from animal teeth, sometimes from wolves. Japan made wooden dentures in the 16^th century and such plates were used up to the 20^th century. The thought of wearing wood in my mouth makes me shudder. Naturally, my imagination has gone into overdrive and I’m viusalising rough bark and twigs, even leaves. Chewing would sound like the clattering of castanets or arpeggios on a xylophone.

From the 1780s, US President George Washington’s false teeth, of which he had at least four sets, were composed of human teeth, hippo and elephant ivory, gold and brass, and were held together with metal fasteners, bolts and rivets. Some of the human teeth were sourced from slaves.

Grave robbers could make a substantial living – some say the modern equivalent of £10,000 per night – by stealing teeth from corpses. These were then used to make dentures.

Tooth enamel is the hardest substance in the human body and is as hard as steel. It’s amazing that the human diet wears it away.

Did you know that our tooth and tongue prints are unique, just like our fingerprints? I didn’t, so I looked for more information about exclusivity. Iris and retina patterns are unique, and so is the shape and contour of ears. Earprints can be used for identification, though not as readily as fingerprints.  Footprints are individual and are often used to identify infants. How sad that process must be, whatever the circumstances.

There may be some scientific logic behind the ancient art of palmistry – the furrows and creases on our palms are distinctive, but, again, fingerprints are easier to process.

Finally, the distribution of veins in hands and fingers is exclusive to each individual. When I gaze at the contour map on the back of my hands, it’s rather pleasing to know that no-one else has hands exactly like mine. Others might look and think, ‘Thank goodness for small mercies.’