Neither snow nor rain nor blood..What the…
Saturday night I finally decide to check the mail.
Please see below what I find.
An envelope caked in fresh blood. Conveniently preserved red from the cold.
I know that my local postal worker is a drunk unmotivated soul who embodies Canadiana, but perish the thought that he may perceive his vocation as an art form and he is bleeding for it.
Note, there was no attempt to vainly clean the blood off. That would have been the nice thing to attempt, though futile. He is your usual imbecile; he would not know of this futility. Just dropped off the note and went happily along his bleeding way.
From the dentist’s office no less.
I’m not going to that dentist. Not that I needed any reinforcement. This is the same `dental team’ that allowed me to have a grueling 2 hour root canal then proceeded to tell me that my insurance will not cover the finalisation of said process (driving in a post.) Nevermind trying to come up with an alternative solution, like say…a filling. The plan, nay EDICT, from this Dental Clinic was that the bottom left Wisdom Tooth (a very healthy and sexy tooth might I add) was to be ripped out because it `shifted.’ Once this sexy tooth was removed, a post could be driven into the now lonely root canalled molar. Insurance wouldn’t cover the whole process, and the clinic told me `too bad so sad!.’ You knew the place was a tad shifty when the person I talked to the most was the director of Human Resources who obsessed over my credit card and hollow assurances of reimbursement over previous sessions of tooth torture.
Fast forward a year. Yes, a year of this tooth being exposed. After all, my insurance renews once a year. I find a new dentist. Young guy, mild mannered, quiet. Enjoyed the torturing of kittens in his formative years. He says a filling is possible. However, infection may be rampant at this point. The filling was done last Monday. No issue initially.
As I type now, I am nursing an abcess due to it being exposed for too long and the infection has no where to drain. Can I kiss you, my dears? The next step is antibiotics (which will inevitably fail since I am a die hard positivist.) When that exercise is done, the filling will be removed and the tooth summarily extracted. In the end: Root canal for nothing. But I’ll probably get a post.
I don’t really fault the insurance company in this case. I fault the clinic for inflating processes and costs to pad their pockets. The tooth care could have been taken care of well within the means I am allowed per annum.
Monday I am going to the Post Office to see if the bleeder is ok. Will update you accordingly on this mystery.
I will return the envelope to the clinic with a written addendum:
`You bled me dry already, thanks.’
See below as proof.
Nicely done.