I'm feeling old.
I know. I'm only 34 and, unless you're my 10yo son, that's still a summer chicken. But yesterday I got my first ever crown and, for some reason, I associate that process with being old.
I went to the dentist with a complaint of discomfort on one molar whenever I ate things that were hard - like carrots. (No gutter thinking people!) I've had this complaint for the last year but my dentist in Cottage Grove, while one of the kindest people I know (he did some dental work for free when we were poor), was not a very good dentist. So, since he couldn't find anything wrong, I didn't push it.
My new dentist (the one I grew up with) thought the filling in the tooth was poorly done and also thought that the pain may have been caused by a fracture in the tooth which the filling was covering. So I went in hoping that we would merely be replacing a filling and left, 1.5 hours later, with a temporary crown. (Apparently, I clench my teeth. And apparently, clenching is not good for teeth. In fact, apparently it causes said teeth to fracture.)
First, let me whine that holding your mouth open for an hour and a half HURTS, yes it does. I think my joints are still feeling pain.
Second, let me further whine that I cannot stand the sound and smell of the drill and when you're getting a crown, the drill goes on and on for.ev.er.
Third, the point of this whole post, is that my tooth was gone. G.O.N.E. Okay, the roots are still there and there is a small post to hold the crown but without the crown there is a large gap between my second bicuspid and my second molar. And that made me sad.
Really sad.
And all I could think of, and yes I KNOW I'm being melodramatic, was, "Well, I guess that's another reason to look forward to the resurrection: I'll be getting my tooth back."
Of course my other thought was, "One down, 27 more to go."