Wednesday, October 25, 2006


Last night as I was noshing on a Mars bar, my front tooth broke off. It’s an old crown. Took the day off and went to the dentist. My favorite place…remember? Mechanics have more heart!
I was given three choices: A dental implant for $1300, a new crown for $450 which is iffy because it might not work and a thing called a “flipper” for about $180. The flipper would mean losing the tooth and wearing this plastic thingy as a cosmetic cover.
Last time I was in there, they graciously spread out the cost of the treatment over three months. Maybe they have this good cop bad cop thing going on with the dentist being the good cop and his bookkeeper (she has the kind of hair that makes you ask, “is that on purpose?” – it looks like a swamp buggy) being the bad cop. She said they wouldn’t do the payment thing anymore.
The dentist finally came in to pull the tooth, jerks it a little and said, “I just hate to remove a tooth I can save!” At that point, I burst into tears and told him what the bad cop said. He assured me that we could work it out and he would try to save the tooth.
So I had a root canal and a temporary crown put on.
When I left I stopped to set up my next appointment for the permanent crown and I chuckled and laughed with the receptionist while old Swamp Buggy glowered at me.
The new tooth is a little snaggly looking, but for a temp…it’ll do.

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