Toothlessness and the Vulnerability of Aging

My Dad Had All of His Teeth Replaced in One Day

As blood oozed from his toothless mouth, I couldn’t help but notice how old he looked. When did this happen? Seeing him with no teeth felt like a foreshadowing of things to come.

Chronic periodontal disease had plagued him for decades, so my dad opted for oral reconstructive surgery. He needed a full set of implants put in — all in one day.

I didn’t even know this was a thing oral surgeons could do. But apparently, they can remove all your teeth, install anchors into your jawbone, and then build and install new teeth.

I cringe just thinking of it.

He paid someone tons of money to install his new denticles. He had a long history of oral problems, despite spending more time at the dentist than anyone else I know. We’d find out later how unhealthy he was because of his bad teeth. Sinus issues and other infections all started from bad teeth. Drastic measures were needed.

On the day of the surgery, I picked him up at 5 a.m. to go to Pittsburgh. The day had that electric feeling to it — like something was different or about to change. Since the pandemic was still looming, they only allowed one person with him.

The procedure would take several hours, so I had my laptop and would try to work, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Everything just felt…weird. The room was small and had cold, direct LED lighting.

After the extraction, they brought him into the room with me while they made his new teeth. He couldn’t talk because he couldn’t feel most of his head. The fake light was playing tricks on me, surely. He looked like an alien version of himself and probably felt that way, too. There are times when LED light doesn’t feel like real light. It feels electronic. Robotic. Manufactured. Dead.

Maybe it was the light, but mostly it was because he had no teeth. He tried talking, but it was just garbled noise. His face was numb from his nose to his throat. Blood oozed from his mouth as we sat mostly in silence. He texted me from six feet away, just to entertain me I think. We watched old episodes of NCIS, which is not a show either of us likes, but it was the only show we could tolerate.

I wiped blood from his chin and tried to keep his ice packs strapped to his jaw comfortably. It was striking to see him in such bad shape. How could this man who was a lion suddenly look so feeble?

Seeing your folks in such stark contrast from who they were when you were young is a brutal reminder that time comes for us all. The people who sheltered you are now in the middle of events they can’t shelter from.

After a few long hours, they took him back to screw in his new teeth. They then released us, and I took him home to begin the lengthy recovery.

His surgery took place just a few weeks before Christmas. When I got him home, my mom was resting on the couch. She just had her foot reconstructed, so I planned to spend the night to be sure they were alright. The two of them having these major operations within weeks of each other was jarring, but they were trying to make significant improvements to their quality of life.

I made sure they were well-medicated, iced up, and comfortable. My dad was glad the surgery was all over, but he knew the pain and swelling would kick in soon. For now, they were content, and we watched a Christmas show on TV. I kind of felt like a kid again, hanging out on a Friday night with my folks.

While we talked, my dad told me he had visions of his past while he was coming out of anesthesia. As the medical staff woke him up, he responded to their commands to touch his fingers together and move this way and that, all while seeing these visions of his life.

In these visions, he was reliving various moments of his life. While he followed the staff’s instructions, part of his mind was somewhere else. He was even aware that they were visions, and he consciously thought his life was “flashing before his eyes,” as they say. He wondered if he was dying.

In one vision, my mom was at the door waving goodbye to him earlier that morning. Her foot surgery had her in a wheelchair, making her look much older than she was. She waved a lonely and sad goodbye, sorry that she couldn’t be with him.

In another vision, he saw me being born. He saw memories and details long since tucked away deep in his unconscious mind. The detail was remarkable. He experienced the emotions of that day as if he was reliving it again. He felt what it was like to become a father all over again.

He saw visions of my sister at birth, and then his first granddaughter. The benchmarks of his life were in full view, all while the anesthetist brought him out from under the blanket of anesthesia.

My theory is that coming out from anesthesia allowed him to peer into corners of his mind that can’t be accessed normally — not unlike LSD or another psychoactive substance. Maybe the drugs gave him access to parallel versions of our timeline.

I’m not sure if my dad believes in the multiverse theory. I’m not sure if I do. But I do believe there’s more going on than we know about, and that there’s something connecting all of it together. Perhaps his visions were the manifestation of memory or imagination. We’ll never know.

That day was memorable for the three of us. My dad had rarely been as emotional as he was that night, his eyes tearing up at the memory of the visions he had of his life’s most meaningful moments. As he ages, he’s more in touch with his emotions, and I hope we can continue to connect and make memories together for a long time.

He and his shiny new chompers.