Back at Thanksgiving, I felt my tooth shatter. Good news: it was only a crown, and I’d already had a root canal, so there was no pain. Most of the crown was still there. Bad news: fixing it would require a 90 minute appt, and I’ve got all these kids who like to wreak havoc in medical offices. Plus, they couldn’t get me in until March.
Well, they could have gotten me in on December 29th, but they refused to let me pay for the work three days later so I could use the flexible spending account.
A few days ago, the rest of the crown came off. I called the local dentist, the one my family sees, and he offered to have me come in before start of business yesterday so he could get a look and give me a temporary crown.
I went in. Ready for this?
1) the old post was too high and didn’t give enough clearance
2) the old crown was the wrong kind
3) the old post was the wrong kind
4) but that doesn’t matter because it came out in his hand while he was fitting the temp crown.
5) there was yuck brewing beneath the old post
These problems were unrelated! That’s two failure modes for one piece of dental work done by three dentists (Dentist #1 being the idiot whose bad fill job on a cavity shattered my original tooth, resulting in a root canal, periodontal surgery, and the ill-fated crown.)
Yesterday afternoon, therefore I got to go back at 1pm for a one-hour appointment (with Kiddo#4) to start undoing the damage that had to be undone before they can make a crown to replace the broken one. No child-care was possible: Kiddo#4 is a Velcro Baby, and he doesn’t want to stay with anyone other than Mommy (although he’ll tolerate Daddy.) I kept him awake prior to the appointment hoping he’d sleep, but no.
And then: miracle. He sat on my lap through 45 minutes of me in a dentist chair with someone poking away at my mouth. And when they did X-rays and he had to be out of the room? For the first time…ever…he played with a stranger.
God looks out for fools, drunks,the United States Of America, and people who habitually pick incompetent dentists. (The new dentist, after hearing the rundown, said,”I don’t want to be Dentist Number Four.”)
While paying, my head started swimming when the receptionist was explaining what she might charge. I just handed her the FSA card and said, “Do whatever you want. The only thing I remember about last time is that a lot of money changed hands.”
She said, “Gives you a warm feeling, huh?”
I said, “Well, I’m glad for dentistry. It’s not like I could save some money by doing any of this myself.”
Next stop: Friday, for 90 minutes, they’ll take apart my head and put it back together again. Wish me luck.