Two of the three teeth waiting for permanent crowns had been anesthetized now, and the dentist and her technician turned to the third, non-deadened tooth to cement its crown into place. The dentist placed the molded porcelain cusp onto the tooth, pushed it down and seemed to be pleased with the fit. Then she pulled it off so the bonding cement could be applied to it.
ZING! I practically leapt out of the chair and the dentist, two of her gloved fingers deep in my mouth holding the little nub of a faux tooth, struggled not to lose her grip on it while it was still in my mouth.
That was the worst jolt yet because the onset of the pain was so sudden, unexpected and intense. She took her fingers, clutching the crown, from my mouth and said, "It's the metal on its base that creates that shock effect on the tooth, but we'll deaden that tooth too before we place it in permanently."
As yet another long needle appeared before my face, I croaked, very earnestly, "I can't wait for my ten-mile run back to my house as soon as I leave here." "In the rain?" she asked.