icebluenothing

So now I have a gold crown. And it's not because I'm a pretty, pretty princess.

Couple-few weeks back now, I was sitting peacefully with my friends, eating some chicken strips, when one of my teeth just -- came apart. I didn't feel it break, there was no pain, no discomfort, anything -- I just suddenly found a disconcertingly large chunk of tooth in my mouth and then the huge crater where it used to be. Upper right quadrant, all the way back. I sat there for a moment completely freaking out over this. Please wake up, I kept saying over and over in a frantic whisper, convinced this was a nightmare. Please wake up.

I got in to see a dentist -- many thanks to treebyleaf and retcon for recommending a good one, and thanks also to treebyleaf for loaning me money to do it until I could sell some stock.

The dentist in question was Vicki Fidler, a specialist in patients with dental phobia. Her first words to me on seeing my tooth? "Wow, you really did a number on that one, huh?" Thanks, doc. Real comforting.

So as soon as they could fit me in, I had a temporary crown put on. Nitrous was interesting. I was perfectly aware that, yes, there was indeed a dental procedure of some kind going on in the room. Didn't really seem to have anything to do with me, though, so I pretty much ignored it.

Pain kicked in when the drugs wore off, and Riff and treebyleaf both convinced me that I needed to eat something, whether I really wanted to or not. So they took me to a grocery store and wandered around with me as I tried to puzzle out: What was neither hot, nor cold, nor needed to be chewed at all?

So as I was sitting in the back seat of their car spraying Easy-Cheez directly into my mouth, I admitted: "This is not my proudest moment."

----

All is well now, though. I went in a couple of days ago to have the temporary crown taken off, and the gold one put on. The dentist apologized for the delay -- she wasn't satisfied with the first gold crown the lab sent, and sent it back to have them redo it -- but I assured her that I was, in fact, greatly mollified to know that she wasn't simply willing to just slam whatever vaguely tooth-shaped object they sent her into my head.

Changing out the crowns was no trouble at all, and I was able to go grab a burger right afterward. Much yaaay.

Weirdly enough, I really like the way the gold tooth feels -- my tongue likes to play with it. And it looks fabulous, too. Bling bling, y'all.