It was just supposed to be a simple procedure, but when it comes to dentistry, my mouth has always been a money pit.
I will admit to occasionally taking a laissez-faire attitude about dental health over the years. When Im in a hurry in the morning, its usually brush, brush, brush, and swish, spit. And yes, Im not a huge fan of floss either.
As a result of this (and of poor enamel genetics), Ive got a number of fillings and a few crowns. Most importantly, I have a bridge in the front of my mouth, which followed a bike accident which chipped a tooth which died and then screwed up my gum and ended up with major dental surgery while I was a college freshman.
Strangely, I have no problem with going to the dentist, or with the pain associated with some dental procedures.
So here I am one recent night flossing, of all things, when I feel a sort of a pop and find a piece of tooth on the floss.
My first thought was How much is this going to cost?
At first, the answer was a few hundred bucks to repair a filling. Not ideal, but given my history, not bad either. Without the work, I was literally looking at a rather unattractive space between two very conspicuous front teeth.
After a few routine X-rays, I could tell things were quickly taking a turn for the worse. First when the dentist sits on his stool and glides toward you with the X-rays, you know somethings up, especially when he has that good news, bad news look on his face.
The good news? The filling can be accomplished without a root canal.
The bad news? The next tooth over (the big front one) has problems, including in the gum and at the root. (At this point, my dental cash register starts to ring).
The worst news? You know that bridge you have? Well, its attached to said little front tooth and thus will have to be redone.
Ding, ding, ding, ding! Somewhere, a little dental angel just got some very expensive wings.
So what can I say? In addition to having some equipment in my mouth, the price of all that work has pretty much left me speechless.
The nice lady comes in and puts the gas mask over my nose. I am floating, though only temporarily.
All I can think of is that four-figure quote dancing through my head. More than the price of my first car, more than a years school tuition for The Nipper, more than three months worth of mortgage payments.
I inhale deeply. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
I exhale and feel a sense of financial panic.
So I inhale a little more deeply.
A few hours and several Novocain shots later, I am returned to my upright position, given two more appointment dates and a prescription for some mild pain medication. Even the receptionist gives me that oh, that had to hurt look as I leave the building.
On my short drive home, I do some quick math and decide my teeth (or more correctly, the bill for my teeth) are making my head hurt.
The Practical Me consoles Neurotic Me by saying it had to be done. Unless toothless was going to be the new look this spring, I couldnt very well go around with a four-tooth space in my mouth. Then Neurotic Me tells Practical Me to shut the heck up and let me have my breakdown.
By the time I get home, it is pretty apparent that Neurotic Me is going to win this battle. I opened the door to Husband and the floodgates were released. Of course, since most of my mouth was numb, all he heard was teef ..ow bidge thousand waaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh
So off he went for the pain pills and I was left sobbing and drooling, neither of which makes you more attractive.
The good news? The prescription was only $3. But the pain in the wallet? Well, theres just no remedy for that.
