This morning I went back to my dentist to have the permanent crown seated. They tried it on for size and fit. It looked wonderful. However, it may have too much space between it and its neighboring teeth.
What does that mean? Food may tend to get packed down between the crown and its neighboring teeth, causing a less-than-ideal situation. It could cause pain, decay, or other unpleasantness.
So today, they cemented the permanent crown in place with a more temporary glue. In 2-4 weeks, after I’ve chewed lots of food on the new crown, I’ll know better whether or not it’s going to have the food packing problem. If the problem exists, they’ll put the temporary crown back in place and have porcelain added to the permanent crown. If there’s no problem, they’ll re-seat the permanent crown with a different type of glue that won’t ever let go.
Regardless, I’ll be back in the dentist’s chair at least once in the next month. Ugh.
But at least they don’t have to use novocaine.
For now, the title of this mouth-related post makes me giggle.
Och. I HATES teeth problems. HATES! After numerous visits to the oral surgeon in the space of one year between Sept 2005 and Sept 2006, I’ve SO had it for life. And then some.