I don't want to be royalty anymore

My dental sagas just continue. There is something about me and dentistry; like oil and water. I went yesterday to get my $1200 replacement crown. The one that I had to get to replace the first crown I had for five years. The first crown, put in by a different dentist, caused me nothing but grief from beginning to end, with a few happy years in between. This replacement crown would end that horrible chapter in my life and all would be right with my mouth.

I opted out of the needle and went for the numbing cotton swab instead. Out came the temporary crown and in went the new one. Tap, tap, tap on the red carbon paper. Drill, drill, drill to fit the new crown. Tap, tap, tap again. Drill, drill, drill again. Still not fitting properly. Out came the crown. Oh, wait, no, the crown wouldn't come out. My dentist put his gloved hand back on my crown and pulled, and pulled, and pulled. He used gauze to pull. He tried picking around the edges of my gum to unloosen it. He pulled some more with his fingers. He finally got it off with a combination of a tool and his fingers. I sighed with comic relief. And then....

Then he noticed a hairline crack in the new crown! The one I forked over $1200 for. A crack in the crown! Sort of like the reason I had to get a new crown in the first place.

Back in went the temporary crown. The new crown is off to the firing pit once again, although I'm not sure why a new crown isn't being built for that kind of money. But once again I left everything in the hands of the experts. Now I'm second guessing, while nursing a raging headache and toothache.

I would rather have a pap smear then dental work.