1,000 Words About the Dentist. I’m Sorry.
January 12, 2012
I accidentally didn’t leave the house yesterday. I was going to, but it was very snowy and the dinner I was supposed to go to got canceled. So I made soup. And other people who were less lazy then me, came over to play games. We played Dutch Blitz which I had actually never played before, but it is pretty much the same as Nertz, so it was really fun. And I dominated. Which made it funner. (I know funner isn’t a word. Leave me alone.)
You guys, I have to go to the dentist today and get cavities filled. Plural. Because apparently I have lots of cavities.
Did I ever tell you the story of my last dentist visit? It was horrible. I had to find a new dentist up here in Denver, and I found a good deal at a new office over by my place. I went in thinking it would be a normal dentist visit — they would polish my teeth, I would hope they didn’t mention how I floss about once every six months (right before I go to the dentist), and I would be in and out in about 45 minutes. I was wrong.
I got there about noon and they brought me in to do some x-rays. I had never been there before, so I figured they needed to check on the state of my teeth. No worries. However, they did not just put me in the chair and take a quick four x-rays. NO, they took like 16 x-rays. I am not kidding. And, the girl who was doing them was not very good at it, because she kept putting things in my mouth, attempting to take the picture, failing to get the right angle, and retaking the picture. All-in-all we probably did 30 x-rays.
Then we went to another room where, just for fun, Miss Radiation-Fanatic decided to do more x-rays. Then she took some literal pictures of my teeth and mouth — like with a camera. After about six hours, she finally stopped snapping away. I wondered if this was just a staged dentist office for mobsters who were going to kill me and use my dental records to somehow claim my fortunes after my death. But then I remembered that I don’t have any fortunes.
Finally, I thought. Time for the cleaning. Right? Wrong.
Next the dentist came in to tell me what all my x-rays meant. By this time, most people had left for dinner, but Dr. Dentist had apparently stuck around. He came in and looked at a couple of the 400,000 pictures they had taken of my teeth, gums, baby teeth residue, nose cavity, spleen, toenails and brain cells. “You have three cavities,” he said. “Sucks to be you.”
Umm, I had just been to the dentist six months previously and hadn’t had cavities in a long time. I thought it was suspicious that I suddenly had three cavities. But then I remembered that they’d taken pictures of every proton, neutron and electron of my teeth. I’m sure they had found something that would possibly turn into a cavity sometime within the next forty years. They had photographed the depths of my soul, for goodness sake.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s get to the teeth cleaning.”
“Calm down, Speedy Gonzales!” screeched Dr. CavityHead. “Our payment specialist will come talk through your cavity finances now.”
I tried to get up to leave, but all of the x-ray radiation had weakened me. So I stayed in the chair while a woman literally came in to tell me that cavities cost money to fill and I would have to pay for them. By then I could see the stars twinkling outside of the window — the moon was full and bright that evening.
Miss X-RayElectromagneticus came back and poked around at a table behind my head. Then she drank some tea. Then she went and took a bath. Then she drove over to The Gap. Finally she came back with new skinny jeans and decided to polish my teeth.
“Umm, excuse me,” I yawned. It was past my bedtime. “Don’t you scrape at all the plaque before you do the cleaning?”
“Back it up, crazy lady!” she screamed. “I am not qualified for plaque scraping. What do I look like? A professional plaque scraper?” (She did, with the scrubs and all.) “I polish teeth. Dr. CavitiesAreMyFavorite will be the one to deal with your plaque, ma’am. He is a licensed professional, a dealer in all things plaque, a connoisseur of teeth slime.” Then she showed me his diploma on the wall. Dr. Dentist Bucktooth CavityFace, Ph.D. of Scraping Gunk Off of Your Teeth.
So, she proceeded to polish my teeth and floss them before the plaque removal. Is it just me or is that completely and totally backwards?
“OK, then,” I sighed. “Time for Dr. PlaqueExpert to come get this plaque out of here, right?”
Miss TeethPolishingIsMyMiddleName looked horrified. “It is late!” she cried. “What do you think we are, an all night dentistry of 24-hour dentists who like to stay up all night?” She handed me a Snuggie. “You can sleep in your chair. The dentist will be here in the morning.”
I snuggled down for the night.
I awoke to the birds chirping, and the sun rising golden in the east. Dr. PlaqueMandu sauntered in, apparently waiting for me to bow and clap before His Plaqueness. He sat down and checked my throat for cancer. I was clear. Then he got to scraping.
I finally left, with a sharp reminder from Mrs. PointlessFinancialWoman that cavities cost money and they would not be doing them for free.
So, I’m going back today to get two cavities filled. I’m bringing three changes of clothes, books to read, and food rations.
I may have dramatized the story a bit, but not much, you guys. I was in there for two entire hours for my teeth cleaning. And the financial lady did come talk to me. And they did polish my teeth before the plaque removal. It was so odd. Clair, is this the new trend in dentistry? I was so confused — I have never had a visit like that. So pray for me today. I’m scared. For so many reasons.
Well, I’m sorry this post happened to you. I’ve literally written 1,000 words about nothing. Have a good day not going to the dentist! I shall see you tomorrow if they haven’t overdosed me on novocaine and hatred. Bye!