Cracked Tooth

I'm in shock.

Actually, I'm in Vail, Colorado. For the final week of the ski season. Didn't know that? All I can tell you is with a laptop and a smartphone, I can work anywhere. And when it comes to skiing, I refer you to Bad Company's "Simple Man," which so eloquently states "Freedom is the only thing, means a damn to me." Didn't picture me as a right winger, did you? No, I'm talking about the true freedom, the one you get sliding down a mountain, where no one can tell you who to be and how you should act. That's life. I recommend it.

And when I was in Aspen last December, I bit down on some steak and...

I felt something weird. Like half of my tooth was moving and half wasn't. And it didn't get better. And I went to the dentist when I returned to L.A. and he couldn't quite diagnose it. He thought it might be an exterior crack, gave me some fluoride, I knew that wasn't the case, but I played along. He said to wait for the tooth to "show itself."

It did this morning.

I bit down on some trail mix, yes, eaten with Dannon coffee yogurt, the elixir of life, and a sharp pain echoed through my brain. And I put my finger in my mouth and realized...my back molar had cracked in two, like a rock you ping with an axe.

This is not good.

I'm a thousand miles from my regular dentist. The last time this happened he said I needed a root canal and an implant. I escaped because I'm so damn old the root had retreated, a fake tooth sufficed.

But now I can't even drink water, the pain is excruciating, it's Friday at 10 AM and...

We call the recommended dentist.

He's got no time for an emergency.

And who he recommends won't fit someone in.

And the next person is out of the office and will only take dental emergencies who are patients.

And after exhausting the recommendation tree, we called the concierge, who came up empty too.

And time is ticking by, what are we to do?

Pull up Yelp.

Turns out we contacted every dentist in Vail. So I tried Avon and Edwards and finally, we got someone who would see us.

If we could get there.

And you know how it is when you suffer an injury. Time stops. You freak out. But when you see a road to treatment, you calm down a bit. The hotel got the Yukon, we were on our way.

Turned out the very nice receptionist had only worked there for a month.

The hygienist was smacking her gum.

The regular dentist was in Mexico, this was a guy who wasn't even listed on the website.

And I'm lying back in the chair, freaking out, wanting to bolt but knowing I have no option.

And this wet behind the ears dentist tells me... They'll make a porcelain crown, I probably won't need a root canal, I'll be good to go.

For $1245.

Huh?

I don't want to bargain, I'm afraid of getting bad service. I have no other option, so I say yes.

This is after turning down the obligatory x-ray, which I know is superfluous.

But the dentist has those specs, you know, with the magnifiers.

And he's wearing rubber gloves and a face mask.

But he doesn't put the bib around my neck.

But if I ask for one, am I undermining him?

So he shoots me up and then mumbles about putting something in my mouth...

It's like a breathing tube. It's gonna capture all the detritus from the tooth as he drills it clean.

This is new to me. My hometown dentist is a professor at USC and I've never experienced this.

But at first there's not enough novocaine.

So we wait a bit longer.

And then he's drilling for greatness. And I'm getting some wetness on my shirt and wondering if I'm getting third world treatment, the substitute dentist in a resort area.

And then they get out the laser, and there's smoke, and suddenly he's poking a wand all around my mouth, making a scan.

The hygienist says the machine might need to be reset. Which undermines my confidence, which wasn't at an all time high after the receptionist had to show the dentist how to make the drill work...

But after taking a ton of pictures, this barely thirtysomething dentist sits behind a console that looks like a periscope in a submarine and he starts clicking on the screen, rotating the trackball, building my crown.

Yup, they've got a machine right there, in fifteen minutes, it's gonna be ready.

And on one hand I'm living in the future. Could it be that this dentist is so young and advanced I've stumbled into exotic territory?

He's driving the console like a kid playing a video game, I'm getting too uptight to watch.

And then this tubular machine in the lobby lights up and starts building the crown, I saw it when I went to the bathroom.

And then it was ready. There was a placement test. And then the obligatory blue articulating paper. And he's drilling the molar below, to make sure the points don't break the new crown.

And I'm getting more and more uptight, and then I tell myself I'm so damn old, how long am I gonna live anyway, does it really have to be right? I mean something has to be done, I can't eat and I can't drink.

And then he's saying he's getting it perfect. Which I love, because I'm all about perfection.

And then voila, he's done!

Complete.

I can eat.

I can ski.

I can...

Barely speak because I'm so freaked out, I'm still freaked out.

But it does seem right.

But the novocaine hasn't worn off yet.

And it's not like I can go back to him for adjustments, even though they told me I could. And my regular dentist would probably charge me.

And then I think how this tooth has been bugging me for months, and maybe this guy who played football in college, graduated with honors from the University of Minnesota School of Dentistry and did a residency with the VA in Utah, was a gift, a professional from the future, one of those young savants who are all about detail, who only know how to get it right.

We'll see!

Meanwhile, I'm gonna go ski!


--
Visit the archive: http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
http://www.twitter.com/lefsetz
--
If you would like to subscribe to the LefsetzLetter,
http://www.lefsetz.com/lists/?p=subscribe&id=1

If you do not want to receive any more LefsetzLetters, http://lefsetz.com/lists?p=unsubscribe&uid=0eecea7b60b461717065cbde887c8e25

To change your email address http://lefsetz.com/lists?p=preferences&uid=0eecea7b60b461717065cbde887c8e25




--
Powered by PHPlist, www.phplist.com --