Getting Screwed by the Dentist

I'm breaking up with my Dentist.  Whom I used to love. 

What’s not to love about a dental practice that offers freshly baked cookies for patients?  You can apply sugar to your clean sparkly teeth before you even leave the place!

It is important to know that I was raised on well water.  I’m so old that fluoride wasn’t invented until I already had more cavities than teeth.  

And by the time I was 40 I had more crowns than Medieval England.

I started seeing my dentist, let call him “Dr. T”, 17 years ago when I first moved to Columbia.  Dr. T is not only an outstanding dentist, he’s an aesthetic dentist.  Which means his office is C*O*V*E*R*E*D with posters of beautiful people with even more beautiful smiles.

Which also means that I’ve been encouraged to get braces for 17 years.

“I’m not getting braces,” I tell Dr. T on every visit.  I remind him that if I was going to invest my money in aesthetics I’d get plastic surgery. 

Plus, I’m OK with the fact that my face will not be plastered on a poster in his waiting room.  Next to the cookies. 

During a routine visit 15 months ago, I told Dr. T’s hygienist that I had been experiencing pain in one of my back teeth.  She and Dr. T. carefully inspected the tooth and saw no visible signs of decay.  They concluded that I did not have a cavity. Rather, I had a "bruised tooth".  Dr. T. assured me that it would get better and to call them if it didn’t.  

Or if I changed my mind about braces.    

Eight months later I returned for another routine appointment, where X-Rays were taken.  As the hygienist examined them, she said, “This looks interesting.”  

(I do not want to have interesting dental X-Rays.  I want boring X-Rays.)

Sadly, Dr. T agreed with the hygienist.  You see, my tooth was completely decayed and needed to be extracted.  And, worse yet, I had to get a DENTAL IMPLANT.   

He added that if I ever wanted to get braces, this was the perfect time.

I soon learned that getting an implant is a very expensive and lengthy process which involves inserting a screw into your bone and ultimately placing a crown atop the screw.  

  

Dr. T referred me to a different dentist to whom I paid more than $3,000 to get screwed.   

I returned to Dr. T yesterday to get my mouth molded for the crown to place atop the screw that has been protruding from my gum for a month. 

After sitting through 4 different mouth molds I was sent to the front office to check out.

The Front Office Manager, let’s call her “Esmeralda”, informed me that the total cost for my new crown would be $2,300.  I gulped and asked for a discount.  

On-accounta-the-fact that IT WAS NOT A BRUISED TOOTH AND IF THEY HAD DONE A DAMN X-RAY 15 MONTHS AGO THEY WOULD HAVE SEEN A TEENY TINY CAVITY THAT COULD HAVE BEEN FILLED.

Esmeralda told me she would discuss it with Dr. T and call me back.

She phoned just an hour later to remind me that I had been offered an X-RAY during my exam the previous year and had refused it.  

Say-what?  Why in the hell would I refuse an X-RAY when I had a tooth ache?

Esmeralda also told me that Dr. T. had also adjusted my bite that day and told me to call if I had any problems and they never heard from me. 

Adjusted my bite?  What the flip does that mean?  I googled it and to find that adjusting my bite involves drilling.  

Dr. T did not drill me.

When I told Esmeralda that those stories were fiction she got all bitchy with me and basically said too bad so sad and stop shooting the messenger.   And I'm stuck.

I have one final visit to Dr. T’s office on August 29, when he will again make me royalty by placing a crown atop a screw sticking out of my gum.  I will pay $2,300 for that service.  

But I am taking every last one of those stinkin’ cookies on the way out the door. 

More from the Drinking Buddies

Becca was momentarily stunned when she noticed Josh hanging onto my kitchen light for dear life.



"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You've got a guy hanging from your light."

"Oh!" I said.  "That's Josh.  Chad's on the other side.  And Mitch and Chad #2 are climbing up my Eiffel Tower wine cork holder."

Becca should not have been surprised.  She knows me well enough.  You see, my Drinking Buddies have kind of taken over where Barbie left off.  Occasionally making an appearance in a blog post.. But between blogs, I let them hang out wherever they choose.  Like on the lamps in my family room.  Or on my Amazon Banana Slicer. 

"They're cute," Becca observed.  "Yeah," I agreed.  "And you really can't have too many Drinking Buddies."

Especially when your daughter is getting married.  I mean, just think how easy it would be to lose track of your drink at wedding!  But no worries for me.  I have my Drinking Buddies.

Not to mention the fact that they'll fit right in at a Thai Beach wedding in their Speedos.

I have 12 Drinking Buddies, which will be enough for 1 table.  Guests at the other tables will just have to be careful with their drinks.

Our table will be all set.  No mixed up drinks to worry about.

Uh-oh.  I just thought of something.

I have two complete sets of six Drinking Buddies.  Which means I have six pair of Drinking Buddy twins.

What if two people with the same Drinking Buddy get their drinks mixed up?

OMG!

That would be a problem for an ordinary Mother of the Bride. But I'm not an ordinary Mother of the Bride.  I'm Lou Clyde. 

And I have a Sharpie.


And, well, it turns out that half of my Drinking Buddies have chest hair!

I can see it now.  Kimmy and I return to the table after dancing to Love Shack on the beach.  "Mom.  Which Mitch Drinking Buddy is yours?"

I smile confidently and say, "The one who waxed."