Thursday.
A good day to be a moron.
Up early for dentist. Need crown. Dentist says "I guarantee you will not feel any pain today" and it turns out that he is NOT LYING. Make mental note to encourage other men in my life to promise same thing. Assistant is lovely woman four years younger than me who calls me "sweetie" and sings country songs while she's grinding all my teeth off. FIVE TIMES she has to squirt purple biohazard in my mouth and make me chomp down on it to get a clear impression. Two hours later I leave with a bumbling dead melon face.
Home, soup. slurp slurp choke splutter SWALLOW GASP and I feel something scrape down my throat. Potato or tooth, who's to say? I realize I haven't tongue-explored my new crown. I do. Is that what it's supposed to feel like? Is that the temporary crown, or have I just swallowed it? My tongue is still numb, I don't know what I'm poking.
possibilities:
1. If I swallowed it and don't call the dentist's office, they will be very surprised in a month when I go back for the permanent crown. "Um... how long have you not had the temporary?" er... since about 15 minutes after you put it in.
2. If I swallowed it and do call, they will laugh. Plus, um, all that goes in must also come out, yikes.
3. If I didn't swallow it and don't call, there is nothing to worry about except I won't know that, so I'll worry for a month.
4. If I didn't swallow it and do call, they will laugh and think I am a hypochondriac freak. Guess which one comes true.
So I call. The wonderful down-home-biscuits front desk lady sweetly calls me a dork and says Come on over, hon. I go. I don't even leave the waiting room, just lean through the tiny window for her to grab my chin and twist me toward the light. The crown is intact.
I say I feel like a big paranoid dork. Cheerily, she says "Well, y'are, hon. Go on home now."