Who Knew...

...that a fixed tooth* could give one a whole new perspective on life?
Sadly, my molar, which broke in half a couple of weeks ago, is terminally ill and it seems that nothing can be done to save it. I asked meekly if I would have to be awake when it gets pulled, and the dentist laughed a little and then assured me that no, I wouldn't. They have some options for me.
I wonder if crack is one of them?
Let me tell you about my dental appointment! Please, let me tell you, because I fear I will burst if I have to keep it all inside of me any longer.
As I mentioned, this tooth (back lower left molar, for those of you interested. incidentally, why are you interested? that's just odd. but thank you for caring just the same) split in half and has been causing trouble for me since. Besides not being able to chew on that side (OR on my right side - it needs a bridge!), my mouth tasted funny. That's all I'll say about that because I want you to still like me after you read this.
So, I went to the dentist for an emergency appointment, I did, and my wonderful dentist (who I love) said that I could come back in a few days (read: tonight) and have a crown put on.
I was nervous going in. I had that sinking feeling - you know the one? In the pit of your belly? That one whispering "you have no right to even hope this may turn out okay and you KNOW it! Stop fooling yourself, freak!"? Yeah. So I'm reclined uncomfortably in the chair and dude is poking around in my mouth, mumbling about crown walls and bones and whether the tooth is broken beneath the bone blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda. Then! Then he started yanking on my tooth.
Um...OW?
Seriously. FREAKING OW! I mean, WTF?
"Does that hurt your gums?" he crooned.
"UH, EEEAAAHHH!" I mumbled around his fingers.
He placated me by shooting anaesthetic into my gums.
And started yanking again.
So yeah, the anaesthetic didn't work and I was starting to tremble a little.
A few well-placed sharp inhalations and an exaggerated wince clued him in.
"Is your tongue numb?" he asked gently.
"UH, LOOO!"
"Oh!" Let's give you some more anaesthetic!" said he, a look of concern in his eyes, so kind and floaty above his mask.
Two more jabs and my tongue was nicely numb, but I continued to tremble. After he wrenched the tooth from my gums and the nurse suctioned some disturbingly red fluid from my mouth, they took an x-ray and left the room to study it.
I looked at myself in the mirror and was astonished at my pallor. Hmmm. I opened my mouth and was once again astonished - this time at the amount of blood floating around in there.
I comforted myself by spitting several times in the sink. I jumped up and down a bit to try and get rid of the shakes and was sufficiently amused at my strangeness to quell the worst of the trembles.
My wonderful dentist came back in looking rather grave, and proceeded to explain to me the many reasons that my tooth has to go. Then he filled it temporarily and replaced a filling on another tooth and we were off to the receptionist's desk to schedule a consultation with the surgeon.
Surgeon.
Because the tooth is large and rather in bad shape so it will be very unpleasant to extract.
Oh look! I'm trembling again!
My dentist spoke quietly with the receptionist, offered me a bright smile, and disappeared while the receptionist typed and scheduled my next appointment.
Are you wondering why I love my dentist?
After she handed me a card with my appointment written on it, she said, "That's it!"
I stared at her dumbly.
"No payment?" I asked, giggling a bit at the silliness of that notion.
"Nope!" she said.
Brightly.
"I like it here!" I exclaimed excitedly, and the receptionist laughed.
I still thought she was kidding, but she wasn't.
I walked out of there feeling like maybe I should run.
I was happy. Buoyant! My tooth is scheduled to die on November 7th but I DIDN'T PAY FOR ANYTHING TONIGHT!
Then, half-way home, I realized that my dentist probably felt bad for me. He probably looks in my mouth and feels sad. And then he thinks of the copious amounts of money I will be giving him in the future: extraction, another extraction, BRIDGE. And he feels joy. He wants me to come back. I, my friends, will keep this man in business with this miserable mouth of mine.
I'm going to bed.
My mouth hurts.

*temporarily!