Being "Patient" with Dentists (Part Two)
Is it strange for a girl my age to request dentures? I'll admit, it's a bit unusual. But my teeth require an unusual amount of attention. I actually think I'd be doing myself a favor.
As I previously mentioned, my new dentist doesn't like some of the work my old dentist has done. He (graciously) gives me the option of paying him to the work again or contacting my old dentist and demand a do-over. A do-over? What is this... third grade? Wait, timeout. I'm a huge fan of my last dentist, and he's a huge fan of mine. After all, my bills alone put his children through college. And now, this new guy wants me to ruffle feathers so he can exude his periodontic superiority?
Patience Sunny, patience.
And so I did. According to my old dentist, this is only the third time in his 20+ years of practice that a patient has asked for a do-over. He then proceeded to list these patients BY NAME. At this point, I'm not only scared about waking up with a horse's head in bed- I'm planning for it. It's really not smart to tick someone off who could cause you A LOT of unneccessary pain- and that includes the guy who you willingly allow to drill in your mouth.
A few weeks later, after numerous appointments, the drilling was done. I walked out of the dentist's office knowing I had done the right thing, but also thankful it was over... or was it?
Something was seriously wrong. You may call it intuition, but I call it obvious considering my left upper gum had swelled up like an excited blowfish (I love those little guys). Seriously though, it hurt like hell. The dentist tried to shoo me off with a few pills of vicodin, which did little for the pain, but made me quite efficient at doing absolutely nothing.
After re-filling my second prescription, I called the dentist on his cell (that's right, you too can get these amazing privileges when you become a complete pain in the ass!) Despite it being the weekend, the dentist agreed to meet me at the office. Actually, we went through this song and dance twice- just for fun. The first time, he cleaned up the tooth and told me I'd be fine. The second time, he actually took an X-ray! Wow, that's amazing! I mean, it's like Superman deciding to finally use his X-ray vision to peak at Lois Lane's naked body.
I mean, if you've got the toys... USE THEM!
The culprit was a wisdom tooth which had somehow shifted during this whole, painful process. A process initiated by a new dentist I don't like, and carried out by an old dentist who is plotting his revenge. This situation sucks. I've never had a wisdom tooth pulled, mainly because I need all the wisdom I can get. It's also the reason, I've never tried pot...
I'm now presented with another choice, and this time the old dentist is holding all the cards. I can either pay $500 to have him pull the tooth or have the new guy do it. I chose door #2, which allows me to share the joyous occasion with my trusty HMO. Within 24 hours, the wisdom tooth is gone, and my new dentist is beaming with joy.
Actually, I'm beaming as well. My consolation prize includes a fully stocked arsenal of vicodin, amoxicillan and 800mg capsules of ibuprofin.
Life is good.