Bad luck comes in 3's, right?

Well, Scott and I have had our fair share of bad luck these past few months. First my car was stolen. Then my computer crashed in the middle of trying to start my business. And last but not least, I lost 3 teeth last month. The fateful event leading to the loss occurred on Sunday, August 30th. I was happily eating an ice cream bar at Scott's parents' house when I bit into something REALLY hard--like a rock or piece of metal or something--it was way too hard to be a nutshell. And I heard an unnerving crack. Anyway, I decided to keep my cool because we were in the middle of a discussion with a large crowd of family, and I just swallowed whatever it was along with the ice cream. Well, I was in pain and couldn't chew on the right side of my mouth, so I made an emergency appointment with my dentist for Tuesday morning. The dentist told me that, yes, a small piece of my tooth had broken off, but the tooth in front of the chipped tooth looked badly bruised (tooth #5 in the middle of the upper right side). He said that the tooth might die and need a root canal and that I had to wait 3 weeks to know for sure. He also actually told me that unfortunately I would "have to live with some owie for awhile." Seriously? Am I 2? So I left his office truly believing that my tooth just had to get better because I never have dental problems. Well, it didn't get better. I still couldn't eat on that side of my mouth, and a week-and-half later I accidentally bit into a soft tortilla which resulted in shooting pain in the entire right side of my face. The shooting pain continued off and on through the weekend, so I went back to my dentist a week earlier than planned. He confirmed that the tooth was in fact dying and would need a root canal. I felt bad enough about that, but then halfway through the root canal my dentist said that he thought the tooth was fractured in half and would need to be removed. At this point, I texted my visiting teaching companion to let her know I wouldn't be making it to our appointment. I was already on laughing gas, but they gave me a break so that I could sign an agreement to pay $852 for a bridge (and that's WITH insurance). Back on the gas, I had to get 10-15 shots to get numb. The dentist seemed genuinely shocked that it took so much to get me numb, saying that it normally only takes 2-3 shots. Super. Well, he finally gets me numb and yanks the tooth in 2 separate pieces (see picture below). He then proceeds to shave the 2 teeth next to the gaping hole down to basically nothing to prepare them for the bridge. I was seriously depressed at this point. I was already upset about losing one tooth to a root canal, but now I had basically lost 3 teeth. Seriously traumatic for me. And then the shots wore off "much more quickly than usual," leaving me in great pain. I might have cried a little at that point. The dentist and hygienist were empathic and at least didn't refer to my pain as an "owie." I left the dentist's office after 4 1/2 hours with a temporary bridge and huge sobs for Scott. I was a little delirious and insisted on driving myself home even though he urged me to pull over so that he could come get me. I dropped off my prescription for Lortab (bless those pills!), and Scott picked it up and brought it to me at home. I slept and read for two days and finally felt some relief. A couple of weeks ago, I got my permanent bridge put in. It's pretty hard to tell a difference, so I guess that means they did a good job. I'm trying to forget the part where the hygienist and the dentist couldn't for the life of them get the dental floss threaded above my bridge, resulting in many pokes and much bleeding of the gums. Once again, they commented on how "unusual" it was. I just love being special.
Wait. One bright note. My dentist told me that I must have a very high tolerance for pain, which I think is probably true. I believe it makes up for my wimpiness over having blood drawn, etc.
And finally, some pictures:

The culprit. Don't worry. I have filed a claim with Fat Boy's insurance company to hopefully get some compensation.

The damage. Yeah, it split clear down below the gum line.
I was a little disappointed that I forgot to take some before and after pictures of my mouth, but I think I'll be glad to forget my white trash mouth. Nonetheless, it was fun to pop out my temporary bridge and gross out Scott. I think my in-laws will be scarred for life after seeing that.

Now I'm just hoping bad luck doesn't strike a 4th time. We're at our max with 3, and I didn't even count car repairs or ongoing fertility problems. Please tell me we're done for a long, long time!