Dentist

In the last couple of weeks, I have had what I can only describe as a unique experience. What, you may ask, has she been up to now?
I now have my first official fake tooth.
Apparently there is a hierarchy of sorts in your mouth. If you have many teeth in a row in poor health, which failt to thrive and fall out, you get "dentures." This term, I believe, is to indicate they are like indentured servants. They do all the work in your mouth and depend solely on you to choose what you will to feed them.
If you have just a couple of teeth in your mouth are rotten, you get a "bridge" to help them overcome their hardships.
If you have just one bad tooth, it is considered royalty and receives a "crown."
The first day I went to the dentist, it was because after eating the always dangerous piece of TOAST, my tooth broke, leaving a jagged shard in my mouth. I got into the dentist the next day.
When I sat in the chair, the first thing is to check out the damage. After deciding I did, indeed, break the tooth, Dr. whipped out his two six-inch needles. The first went into the outside of the top left gum. While uncomfortable, I didn't really come up out of my chair until the second shot which into the INSIDE of my gum. After scraping me off the ceiling, I was tied into the chair and Doc got out his miniature oscillating saw. He begins the task of removing the offensive tooth from my head. I sit with my mouth agape as tooth shrapnel flys all over the room. I think to myself, "Has anyone ever impaled their throat with their own tooth shrapnel?"
After the shrapnel is successfully removed, some kind of foul-tasting mixture is made up which you are told to "bite down" on. After tasting it, I admit I was thinking something along the lines of, "you can bite me!" The mold being made, he prcedes to put cement in my mouth. For the final touch, a beautiful piece of silver bling is poked in my mouth.

As much as I loved my "grill" work, two weeks later I find myself back in the dentist's chair. This time, he uses pliers to remove the silver bling previously placed and procedes to his ball peen hammer where he nails the new crown in place. (This of course was after blasting my tooth with air and watching me leap out of skin, he determined I would be more comfortable after another six-inch shot was injected into my face).
I left the office $400 later looking very much like a stroke victim, mouth slack and drooling slightly. Just before he left he added, "Don't chew on that side and brush only in a downward stroke for three days. By the way it was great seeing you!"
Oh yeah doc, you too.