I trace my dental problems not so much to myself, but an unscrupulous dentist, who preyed upon my parents (and God knows how many other parents) drilling out massive amounts of my dentin and filling my teeth with mercury all those many moons ago. The man died not too long ago and I DID NOT MOURN him, despite the very long, GLOWING obit in the local fish-wrapper.
That HORRIBLE man DESTROYED my teeth. And how nice a house did he have? How many of his children did he send through some very expensive Ivy League college? What year Corvette did he drive while I've spent the greater part of my adult life doing nothing but pour more and more money into my mouth trying to salvage the teeth he destroyed?
But...as usual...I digress.
I've spent more than the advance on my next series on my teeth in the last four months. Holy cow--I can't believe what frivolous things I could've bought had I not been repairing damage upon damage upon damage.
I recently got an new dentist. She's a woman--and boy do I trust her and her whole staff. This is a first for me--a woman dentist, and actual trust. I feel comfortable there. I don't feel like she's trying to put one over on me, which I have felt in the past with male dentists. Oh, she's not cheap, but this time--it feels different. This time I feel like she's got MY best interest at heart, and not her bottom line.
For instance, last week I had a problem with my temp crown (which was actually covering TWO teeth--because I'm getting a new crown on one tooth, and a replacement crown on the tooth right next to it). The first temp felt good, but it was defective. Hey, it took five tries (and let me tell you, with an overactive gag reflex I am NOT a good patient--hey, I've puked on more than one dentist while having impressions taken) before we got a decent impression. Then, of course, I had to bite down on a popcorn hull that broke the temp. Oy! My tongue was hamburger after three days, and the receptionist gave me a good talking to for not "bothering" the dentist on her weekend off.
So today I get my final crowns. Good, because I've done nothing but chew my cheek for the last week every time I bite my food. Dr. C was concerned that I'd eat through the temp again, so I think she made it extra big this last time--just so it wouldn't crap out on me.
At this point, I only have one more scheduled procedure in front of me, and I've decided, because it's not something that will SHOW at an author talk, that I will wait until my insurance covers it (next January) before I tackle it. If I have to lose the tooth, it won't be visible, so I think I can live with that. In the meantime, I'll kind of miss Dr. C and her assistant Ms. A because they've been so accommodating and so gosh-darn NICE to me.
But I sure won't miss the hit to my wallet.