When my mother’s teeth started breaking on things like tuna sandwiches, the writing was on the wall.
And when the dentist pointed out that no number of pins and no amount of filling was going to rebuild a tooth with virtually no original enamel left to hold it in – and virtually all her top molars were in that shape – her fate was confirmed.
Denture time.
“Don’t worry. It will be so much better in the long run,” said my friend Dale, who knew my mom had been babying her teeth for years, eating only the tenderest meats (certainly no steak!) and soft foods verging on purees.
Dale spoke from experience. She’d had an upper denture for years and... more