back from my first trip (of several) to the dentist

I've got bloody photos from the extraction of my upper-right wisdom tooth to show you, but not quite yet. I've also got a wad of gauze in my mouth that I've been told to bite down on for 90 minutes to stanch the bleeding. 

This wasn't quite like my trip to the dentist in 2005. That session took 90 minutes just to remove the wisdom tooth, and I'd had to come in a few days earlier for the initial consult and what the dentist called "nerve devitalization." Today, it was an initial consult at 11:30 a.m., which resulted—after some X-ray pics and mouth-probing—in the discovery of what I'd already guessed: I have four teeth with problems, each needing to be treated differently. We then moved on to the first of several procedures that will require a few more sessions. Interestingly, the front-desk lady turned out also to be a technical assistant to the dentist, almost like a dentist-in-training.

I didn't totally understand everything the dentist said, but it sounds as if I'm in for a filling and/or a crown, possibly an implant, and almost definitely a root canal (yay! but Google AI assures me that modern root canals are largely painless, with maybe a bit of a "pressure" feeling during the procedure). Anyway, lots of procedures to go. Upselling, indeed, but no referrals to other clinics. And today's session was cheap at only W21,000. 

After the consult, I was given a prescription and told to go down to the pharmacy to buy some meds. I then took the meds once I was back at the dentist's office and sat right back down in The Chair to have my wisdom tooth taken out. The female dentist who did the removal in 2005 used different tools and also lacked strength; she made a lot of noises while she worked on me, at one point commenting, "Your teeth are very strong." Today, the dentist spoke to me mostly in Korean, but at one point, he broke into English to say, "The quality of your teeth is very strong." A bit Konglishy, but a throwback to 2005. Thanks mainly to Mom's genetics, the Force is strong with my teeth. This dentist, an older man nearing the end of his career, employed devices that used mechanical leverage instead of raw strength. I had a sheet with a mouth-hole placed over my face, as if this were some sort of kinked-out BDSM dungeon devoted to face-fucking, but I could sense something like a thumbscrew in my mouth, undoubtedly attached to my stubborn wisdom tooth while the dentist coaxed it out like a partygoer using a corkscrew to uncork a bottle of wine.

Strong teeth. I guess that's why I didn't have any cavities until my late 30s. Mom had her first cavity when she was 40. She told me that, in the old days in Korea, people used to brush their teeth with salt. I can't imagine what that would do to your blood pressure, but I bet Koreans of that era had squeaky-clean mouths. (As James Clavell's books like to tell us, Asians have always been better about personal hygiene than stinky Europeans unaware of their own filth.)

I'll have more to say about all this later, plus there'll be some nice, bloody photos. I suppose a man in my position could ask, given everything else going on with my health, what the point of taking care of my teeth would be (might as well ask what the point of living is). Well, on a practical level, I've still gotta eat until I die, so I'd rather eat without twinges of pain if at all possible. A little work now to avoid a lot of pain down the line.

More later today. I have to keep this gauze in my mouth for another hour, then I can't eat until around 3 p.m. I'm hungry, too, because yesterday was a fasting day for me (which may partly explain why I was able to increase my walking distance last night). Next appointment is next Wednesday at 2 p.m.