Three things you never want to hear your dentist say:
“I hope you brought lucky charms with you. The last two crowns I tried to put on didn’t fit. ”
“Oh, did I mention we’re out of anasthetic?”
“Well, let’s give it a shot and see how it goes.”
But today, within the first three minutes of my 11th (yes—11th; that’s not a typo) visit to the dental college to try to get my old crown replaced, my dental student uttered all three. I was also treated to this little exchange:
Dental Student: “Mrs. Harkrader has been very patient. This is the second time we’ve tried to to fit her crown.”
Faculty Dentist: “Yeah, it’s after the seventh or eighth try when the patience starts to run out.”
Sadly, I had not thought to bring lucky charms with me, so no, the second permanent crown did not fit. So my dental student had to pack this stuff that looks like really fat dental floss up under my gums again (isn’t this how the Nazis practiced dentistry?) and take a third impression. I couldn’t even scream in frustration because my dental student and his faculty advisor both had their latex-gloved hands halfway down my throat.
At this point I’d rather they just carve me a wooden George Washington tooth and release me from the dental nightmare.