Adding Insult to Injury

So, apparently, I’m a real peach.

In August 2008, my daughter broke her FRONT, bottom tooth playing soccer. It was a hot, sticky Sunday afternoon and it was misery. The root was exposed and she was in pain. Lucky for us the best endodontist in the world (email me for a referral!) came to the rescue (on a Sunday!)and repaired what could be repaired and sent us on our way. Because of the nitrous, she couldn’t play soccer the rest of the day, but we did make it back out to the fields to watch what remained of the “First (and only) Annual Coach #2 Jamboree.”

Since August 2008, we have had six temporary crowns and a root canal on that tooth. The bonding wouldn’t stick to what tooth we had left and we had to wait for more than a year to have the root canal b/c the root was not mature enough to have said procedure.

Finally, MyGirl got a permanent crown – well, a so-called permanent crown. I say that only because in MyGirl’s case, it was NOT permanent. She broke this $1400 tooth playing ping pong on New Years Eve.

I talked to the cosmetic dentist that wants to replace her old, broken crown with another “permanent” porcelain crown. I talked to friend’s dad, who was a dentist, he recommended acrylic temporary crown. I talked to another cosmetic dentist who gave completely different advice. (UGGH!)

Hubs took MyGirl to her pediatric dentist (with specific directions to get a recommendation about what to do with the tooth/crown). This dentist would not give an opinion either way. Hubs decided to give me a call after already making a follow-up appointment for sealants and while standing in the lobby.

Frustrated and on the verge of breakdown, I said, “Can I please just talk to the dentist?”
I mean seriously – it’s her FRONT TOOTH.
Hubs: “ I’m already in the lobby.”
Me: “Okay – then let me talk to the receptionist.”

Receptionist and I have a quick conversation about which dentist should call me back and when he would call me back.
Receptionist lady hands my husband the phone back. She must have thought I hung up, b/c while handing husband the phone, she says sarcastically, “Boy - She’s a real peach.”
Hubs: “Tell me about it.”

So while there are not two dentists in Middle Tennessee that could give the same opinion on a 10-year-old’s tooth…. There are two people that agree that I am, in fact, a peach.

We ended up with a stainless-backed, porcelain crown. So far it’s holding up just fine. (Bowing my head and saying quick prayer that sentence remains true.)

MyGirl also now wears a mouthguard – most of the time. And when she doesn’t, I have to go all “peachy” on her…