During dinner last night, a piece of one of my molars broke off. My first thought was, "Shit. There goes my Monday."
Having a hole in one's mouth means playing with it all the time. Seriously. It's like my tongue can't help but to check things out, as if it's been magically fixed in the 60 seconds since I last checked it out. That said, I've tried hard to not think about it and entire minutes have gone by without my tongue wandering over there.
I saw the dentist today and he told me that the piece of tooth that came off was right next to a filling I have there and that, while he could put more filling stuff in there to patch things up, it's a temporary fix and won't last long. The long-term alternative is to dig out the old filling and put in a gold inlay that will fill the entire crater. You know how they say diamonds are forever? Well, for a mouth, gold is forever.
So I'm going to have gold in my mouth. As soon as Dr. Y. told me this, I looked at him with total horror and blurted out, "You mean I'm going to look like a rapper?" Given that this is a molar w-a-y in the back, and that the inlay will be primarily in the back of the tooth, it shouldn't be too visible. All the same, I'm not terribly happy. Dr. Y. is going to be digging around in my mouth and then putting hot molten gold in there. And, how do I kindly ask the man to either pop a breath mint or put on his damn mask?
Oh, and I get to pay almost $600 for all this fun. And that's after the part that insurance covers.
After my appointment, I was filling Pete in on all the details. Here's how our conversation went:
Jen, "...and I'm going to have gold in my tooth, just like a rapper."
Pete, "Maybe I'll go buy you some thick gold chains to wear."
Jen, "Do that and I'll knock your head off. Seriously, I will hurt you."
Pete, "Well at least you're getting into the role already."
Call me Jeninem.