Monday, November 16, 2015

right up there

"Do you want freezing?" he asked kindly, leaning closer.
"Uhh....will I need it?"
"Only for a couple seconds. Three. Three Seconds," he said with conviction.
"Nah, go ahead."

This conversation took place today but the story really began Saturday night.
Just before bed.
You know, on one of those evenings when you brush your teeth on automatic pilot and half-hardheartedly floss.
One of those evening when you expect to droop tiredly into bed with your mind set on some internal easy listening channel.
An evening whence you are counting on Sleep to mercifully rescue you from a thousand thoughts.
And then crown.
It toppled off.
My real crown.
In my mouth.
A gold one I've grown rather fond of.
There was an ominous clink and there it was, on my tongue like a piece of macabre jewelry.

As I lay in bed I tallied up the good news and the bad news.
The bad news was that it was Saturday night.
That would mean no eating until I could get to my dentist on Monday.
If he could squeeze me in.
And things involving crowns and glue tend to be pricey.
That was the bad news.
The good news was that I had a new fairy godmother waiting in the wings called A Dental Plan.
And I had no pain.
And I hadn't lost the crown, or broken the crown, or swallowed the crown.
That seemed like pretty good news.
More good news than bad.
Strange how the heart and head don't always agree.
I felt grateful and fairly optimistic but my heart still beat faster. I didn't just drift off to sleep as per Plan A but turned about on my pillow like a chicken on a spit for longer than necessary.

Monday morning revealed much more good news though.
There was a parking spot EXACTLY in front of my dentist's office. What??!!! That never happens and it was pouring rain too. I felt like a celebrity stepping out of a limo when I stepped to the curb and hastened up the stairway.
I had been afraid that the crown would not be able to be reused and some other dire remedy would be suggested.
Instead, my dentist crowed with delight as he held the crown aloft after doing a trial fit.

I was soon leaning against the counter with wobbly knees, brandishing my bank card.
"There's no charge," the receptionist said, smiling.
She warmly agreed when I declared my dentist to be a VERY gracious man.

Relief is one of my favourite feelings.
It's right up there with happiness.

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