The tooth fairy never came

About five weeks ago I was eating something hard (I don't remember what now) and suddenly felt more crunchiness than whatever-it-was-I-was-eating had a right to be. Upon moving my tongue around I realized, dang it (as they say here in the south), that the crown had come off my lower right molar. Ah well, I thought, when my dentist in NY put it on 10 years ago, he said he wasn't sure how long it would last, so I guess it lasted far longer than it had a right to. Still, since I hadn't been to a dentist in almost four years (since I lived in Orlando), I knew now I had to find someone.

Fortunately, I found a great dentist (with the help of Paul, a distribution safety manager at work) who actually accepts dental insurance. Nice office, great staff, in direct contrast to the first dentist I saw in Orlando who operated a combination dental office/nail spa ("get your acrylic fills while you get your teeth filled!". Hey, you can't make up this stuff.)

Unfortunately, the 30-year-old crown on my front tooth also needed replacing (chipped tooth, a result of a fall over the top of my bicycle handlebars when I was about 8). When the dentist pulled it off, the tooth underneath was in bad shape, and after attempting to prepare it for a new crown, he said the tooth couldn't be saved. OK, I haven't been missing a front tooth since I was may be 5, so the thought terrified me. But after three hours in the dentist chair, I now have a temporary bridge which annoys the heck out of me, but Erika and Crystal and the crew there keep telling me I will look and feel great when I get the permanent bridge at the end of June. God I hope so.

But anyway, they didn't give me the tooth they pulled. Maybe that's why I never got a visit from the tooth fairy. It's just as well; if he brought me two nickels like I used to get when I was a kid, I'd just tell him to keep them. They couldn't begin to cover the bill for this little escapade!