So remember the temporary crown? The one that covered two teeth right next to each other? Well last week while I was eating a black bean burger—the soft kind, nothing hard, crunchy, or sticky—part of it broke off. I knew because it was the only crunchy thing in my burger. It was only a tiny piece so I didn't worry too much about it, but then yesterday morning a bigger chunk broke off while I was eating cottage cheese and bananas, and no I'm not even kidding. I wasn't in any pain so I figured I'd just deal with it.
Confession time: I am normally very tolerant of pain, but going to the dentist makes me ill with anxiety. I hate tooth pain more than anything in life. Give me natural childbirth any day—at least you get a baby out of it. And because I have somewhat sensitive teeth, every visit is an occasion for dread.
So yes, I was going to spend the next 3 1/2 weeks with a gigantic hole in a temporary crown.
Then it started aching.
Just shoot me.
So I did the sensible, adult thing and called the dentist. They got me in this morning at 7 am and without too much drama, replaced the one big double-crown with two separate ones. Almost no pain, 30 minutes, in and out. I was so relieved I went next door to celebrate with a Wawa coffee on the way to work.
Then this afternoon I felt one of the crowns move so I bit down hard, panic-stricken that it would fall right out and I would be trying to jam it back in there. So far it is staying in place, but right after that happened, the dentist's office called to tell me my permanent crowns were in and when would I like to come have them installed?
Um, right now?
I had to settle for Thursday, at which time I hope all this mouth drama is over for good. It's exhausting.