Another crown and still not a queen

I went to the dentist yesterday and spent an hour with his hygienist. I see her 3 times a year and every time I go into a total panic right before I leave. I made sure I was all prayed up, and even practiced relaxation techniques and deep breathing while in the waiting room. Not only was I was far from being relaxed, but I also managed to get some rather strange looks from the other people waiting who either thought I was an asthmatic or some kind of heavy breathing pervert .

My hygienist is a soft spoken gentle soul named Megan. She is a kind, sensitive young woman who would apologize if she accidentally stepped on a bug. However, put a dental probe in her hand and she instantly turns into Attila the Hun. She smiles sweetly and says, "Let's see how your gums are doing" and then the blood letting begins.

I have periodontal disease, bleeding and receding gums so you know it's not going to be a good report before you even go to the dentist. The very best report I can get is that I'm maintaining what I have left. She methodically begins to poke the gum line around each tooth and I instantly begin to taste blood in my mouth. Now I ask you, if someone pokes your gum with a sharp probe wouldn't you bleed?

After poking and prodding comes rinsing where I suddenly begin to think I must be running a quart low on blood from all the residue in the spit sink. "That wasn't bad now was it?" she gently coos while reaching for the dental equivalent of a power washer and a Dyson vacuum.

I slowly begin to take deep breaths again, telling myself to relax, while opening my mouth , shutting my eyes and "going to my happy place". Water begin to vibrate against my teeth and mist my face while the sucking vacuum slurps up the excess moisture.

After the "power washing " the hand tools come out and any thought of escape is abandoned. Megan goes after tarter like a worker bee gathers nectar for the hive. When she finishes she puts away her tools of mass destruction and says sweetly, "Now lets set you up for your next appointment."

What? I have to come back ? Are you kidding? But before I can protest or come up with an excuse "THE Dentist" has arrived to look at some "problem areas" that were discovered during the inquestion er....examination.

Apparently part of my filling is no longer filling my tooth. "I have good news and bad news" he tell me smiling.

Me: What's the bad news?

Dentist: You need a crown on your tooth since there isn't enough tooth left to fill.

Me: What's the good new then?

Dentist: You're getting to age that you don't have that many teeth left that will need crowns!


So dear reader, I left the dentist office with less money in my pocket, a date for next week to fix the tooth, minty fresh breath, clean teeth and the knowledge that it doesn't matter how many crowns you may gain throughout your life it only signifies that your getting older and still not a queen. (Sigh)