Hoo boy.
When I was eight years old, I was at the ice rink with my family. I suddenly got the bright idea to show off by skating with my hands behind my back. It went well until some asshole tackled me(yes, tackled, I had several other people tell me so, I'd never seen the guy in my life either) from behind. Fell face-first onto the ice, broke off half of one of my front teeth.
We didn't find the broken-off piece, so when we got to the dentist they had to replace the half artificially. Went well. So far, so good, but the fun doesn't stop there. Y'see, half an hour after we got home I fell down some stairs and broke the same tooth. Again. Luckily we didn't have to pay for the second dentist visit, since I was treated by the same guy and it was such a short span of time. Nice.
Two weeks later I broke off the same tooth again when I was playing with a stick in the school yard and twacked myself in the mouth. This time I had another dentist repair the tooth, and he put two small metal pins in there without asking my mom first (she wasn't in the room). Me, being 8 years old, didn't know any better so I let him do it. Turns out he did a hack job at it, because that bundle of nerves and stuff inside the tooth got inflamed and infected, started to hurt like nothing else, and eventually I had to go get it removed.
They had to drill a hole into the infected tooth (mind you, even breathing through my mouth caused near-unbearable pain at this point) and literally rip the infected parts out. To make things worse, they couldn't use anesthetic for some reason I can't remember. Either that, or they did use it but it didn't help.
So yeah. Go dentistry.