It’s been a quiet week here at the Carlton B&B, with the Highlight Award going to my dentist appointment on Monday. Although, like most people of average intelligence and some number of teeth, I abhor the dentist with every fiber of my being, so perhaps that activity should be awarded the Lowlight Prize instead. In the interest of full disclosure, let me just say now: I hate the dentist.
I have always hated the dentist – even as a wee bug, when I really shouldn’t have known any better. Sister V. and I went to a pediatric dentist with a Pac-Man machine in the waiting room and the treasure chest of junk store prizes next to the check-in desk – everything a kid could really want in a dentist – but it wasn’t enough. I knew. I knew the dentist was a place to be avoided at all costs. This sort of attitude landed me – on several occasions – in the “special” waiting room where the “high-strung” children had to sit until the sedatives kicked in.
Yes. I hate the dentist.
Even though I’m no longer bitter about being drugged to clean teeth that were going to fall out anyway, I still hate the dentist. It’s not because it hurts, because it usually doesn't. (I love how they numb you prior to the Novocain now. Oh man, back in my day...) It’s because of the hygienists, who – without fail – feel the need to teach me the ABCs of flossing Every. Single. Visit. Yes, I could take the hint and be a little more diligent in my flossing, but I’d rather they’d just leave me the hey alone.
My new dental disgruntlement is the industry’s sudden love affair with Sonicare toothbrushes and Waterpiks. The first time I went to my new dentist here in NEPA, I thought I was in a product placement ad. Ugh. And I thought the flossing speech was bad… It was like they were giving away quarters every time someone dropped a brand name and everyone in the office was bound and determined to save up for a college education. (And yet they still just gave me the regular, old school, free toothbrush. Let’s talk about that hypocrisy.) Combine that with an annoying dentist who looked like Dr. Jackson from Stargate SG-1 (Get a haircut!), decided in 3.1 seconds that I needed five fillings, then proceeded to schedule me for an appointment without telling me why and I almost didn’t go back.
Because I guess that’s why I really hate the dentist: I have terrible teeth and I hate bad news. I brush twice a day, I don’t drink soda, I did the whole orthodontics thing, and – regardless of the opinion held by the patronizing hygienic masses – I do floss more than the average bear. And I still get slammed with the unwelcome news that five of my teeth are on the fritz.
But I did go back. (These are the only teeth I have.) Thankfully, another dentist at the office does most of the heavy lifting and I didn’t even have to deal with Mr. I-Need-A-Haircut. The new guy looked like a cross between Bono and a hobbit – quite possibly the two most trustworthy folks on the planet – and said less than 50 words to me the entire time. That, my friends, is what makes the perfect dentist. And he never even mentioned floss.
you are brave! :)
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