I broke a tooth. I’m not a happy camper. It’s not the pain, the tooth was filled long ago and the nerve had lost most sensation. It’s the annoyance and of course, the financial pain is another thing altogether. Over this, I am fretting plenty.
Two dentists, one at an emergency clinic and my long-time dentist, have confirmed that the only solution is to extract the tooth, put in an implant then a crown. Oh, joy. We are now getting into the thousands of dollars over a period of time. Evidently, most dental insurance plans do not cover implants. It seems for insurance companies the way to go is root canal followed by a cap. Something both dentists assured me would eventually break and the implant procedure would have to be undertaken. A waste of time, discomfort, and money.
But I may have an angle on this. At some point most weekday afternoons I used to drop by a nice Irish pub for a beer. A few weeks ago that pub was gutted by a large fire. Since then the regular patrons have been roaming the downtown core like nomads in the desert seeking a new temporary home.
One such place offers many of the comforts of home, several items on our checklist: decent beer at a decent price, a few televisions for sports fans, and friendly bartenders. It also makes popcorn available at happy hour. It was on an Old Maid, a non-popped kernel of corn, that I crunched my tooth. The way I see it, had I been at my usual pub, which did not offer popcorn, I would not have been able to break my tooth on the kernel. But I could not be at my regular pub, so I figure my broken tooth is, therefore, a direct result of the fire and should, therefore, be covered by the original pub’s insurance. Seems simple to me.