I have not been to the dentist in ten years, and today I was reminded of why: for some reason, I have an innate dislike of being repeatedly jabbed with a sharp metal object.
I have to say at the outset that dentistry has come a long way since my last visit. This office pulled X-rays directly into a computer screen so you could see them immediately. Maybe this is commonplace today, I have no idea. Of course, when the dental technician (d/b/a Mommie Dearest) first bangs the X-ray machine against the back of your head and then does not seem strong enough to aim the device at the correct portion of your head, the effect becomes slightly less impressive.
By far the worst part, however, was the periodontal exam. This took two people. Apparently, important information is gained by jabbing the pointy end of the scraper tool deep into the gums surrounding your teeth, three times on each side of each tooth. Mommie Dearest began calling out a seemingly random groupings of three numbers ("2...2...3 / 3...2...3 / 1...1...2" and so forth). I learned later -- because I asked -- that the numbers have something to do with the health of your gums at each jab location. They also proved, however, to be a fairly accurate barometer of the relative pain associated with each jab. At some point there was a 9 that produced a mild yelp. A funny image flashed through my mind of Mommie Dearest watching Sally Struthers on television as Ms. Struthers urged viewers to call now because correspondence courses were available in the following areas...Animal Torture...War Criminal...Corpse Disposal...Dental Technician's Assistant...
Another big change from my last visit was the near-complete disappearance of the twin sisters of dentistry, Miss Rinse and Madame Swallow. I did not get to swallow for what felt like 20 minutes. I could literally feel my lips chapping and my mouth drying out. Indeed, the only moisture involved was salty and red and was a natural by-product of the aforementioned gum-gouging.
The bottom line is that, after not seeing a dentist for 10 years, I had no cavities. Which leads to only one, unavoidable conclusion: truly, I am a god among men.
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3 comments:
You're obviously very lucky as opposed to my cracked out mouth.
This is absolutely hysterical and true. My recent dentist visit was excruciating. I hate the dentist.
No cavaties for me either, but my crazy hygenist keep trying to sell me on her friend the orthodontist...are my teeth fucked up and I don't know it?
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