Today has been the easiest day thus far, proving that everything - not just dental work - does get a little easier with time.
Two permanent crowns are attached, and as I hold the mirror to my face, I'm actually starting to feel human again. They look as though they grew there, rather than being placed there by the steady and meticulous hands of Dr. Jose Umana. "Happy birthday to me," I say, telling him that my birthday is next week, and for this birthday - well, for every birthday for the rest of my life, I get teeth. A smile! He tells me his mother turns 58 tomorrow. "You could be my son," I laugh. "I will be 58, too."
I am beginning to fear that these people are spoiling me and I'm getting attached.
After the crowns, he fits the temporary denture that I will wear for six months, making sure the coloring was right and the bite and feel, natural. He instructs me to wear it when going out, but when I'm home, I don't need it. Letting the wounds heal is the priority. Then, the mirror. My top teeth stretched from one side of my mouth to the other. I can not reach back in my memory to find a time when that reflection looked back at me. No elementary school picture, no college portrait, no wedding image. I'm still in a lot a pain from the implant surgery, but at this moment, I forget it. I almost feel giddy about a face and a smile that will be complete.
THIS is what they do for you here. They make you feel complete and whole.
We finish a little early and retire to the waiting room. A lady is waiting as well, and soon, she disappears into the back room. In about 10 minutes, she and a nurse return. The lady was beaming. She immediately rushes to the mirror, smiles wide as she admires her new smile. She is at the end of her journey, and she might as well have donned wings and soared through the waiting room. The woman standing in front of the mirror now is a different woman than the one who went back to the treatment room only minutes earlier.
Different is very good here. This is a life-changing different. I'm not sure whether the staff understands the miracles they perform daily, especially to ladies my age who never thought beautiful would be an option. My guess is that they do which is why what they do continues to be so important.
I have one more day here before returning home for six months of healing, both inside and out. Physically, I will be making the transition toward wholeness. Mentally and emotionally, I have to figure out the bigger picture of what a smile will do for me. For so long, I have been held captive by its less-than-perfect image; now, there are no excuses. Understanding this will be a life-changer.
So to my miracle workers in Costa Rica, thank you. We're not done yet, but we have turned a monster corner toward the light.
I have horrible teeth. Always have and always will if I don't make changes now.