I am deathly afraid of needles and my active imagination had the dental techs pinning me down for shots and then producing a huge drill that they hoped to use in my mouth. My dentist, the kind man that he is, anticipated my first question after he announced the news at my regular check-up, and had the good grace not to just fall on the floor laughing. You see, he knows me well. When I asked if there were shots involved and would it hurt, he offered to give me drugs (with a straight face, but I could tell the smile was there.) I declined and decided I would wear my big girl panties when the day came.
|This is Hubby in the chair. I pressed the up button. I pressed the down button. I pressed the forward button and then I pressed the back button. Wonder why he got mad.|
|This is the computer model of a patient's mouth showing the tooth that needs work.|
|This is the crown once it is configured.|
|This is my very nice dentist and his assistant. They made the entire procedure less scary.|
In order to put a crown on a tooth, the tooth is first shaved down – all around the perimeter – get my drift? For all my anxiety, and me this is torture because as he is grinding the tooth down, I am mentally following the instrument around and around the tooth and freaking out. Of course, the tooth is not that big to begin with and your mouth is only so big, but in my vision, there is a huge drimmel tool grinding a huge tooth – I told you my imagination goes wild! Just picture one of those dumb television shows where they depict the patient strapped to the table and the mad doctor holding the drill. There is where my active imagination took hold.