Going to THE DENTIST

Oh, lucky me! I get to leave work a little early today!
The bad part...because I have a dentist appointment.

Going to the dentist for me is always a harrowing experience. I
am blessed that I have good strong teeth, and hard enamel. I
don't get cavities. I am also cursed...these good strong teeth
are surrounded by crappy gums that have a need to be cleaned
and probed very frequently, or, according to my dentist, will
recede and refuse to protect them with the loving care they
have been designed to do.

So for me, getting my teeth cleaned is not a pleasant
experience, as they have to really dig down there and scrape
with these cool sharp pointed daggers. While it is not something
that I look forward to every 4 months, I am told that I have to
do it, or there will be big problems for my dentition.

Thankfully, over the last few years I have found a very gentle
and talented dental hygienist who treats me with the loving care
that I so dearly deserve, so as of late, the procedure has been
much less traumatic for me. Never mind that the doctor's name
happens to be Dr. Payne!

My previous dentist, Doctor Torquemada, couldn't understand
why I was so hesitant to come in for my visits. As a matter of
procedure, they always had to take my blood pressure first (if
it is too high, they are not allowed to do anything).

I can't understand why my blood pressure would rise upon
entering, except for the fact that the first thing I would see
on entering the chamber was a drop cloth surrounding the chair
(to protect the carpets, I am told). Yeah, they make me bleed a
little!

So they have to 'probe my pockets' to see how deep they
are...which means the sharp stylus gets inserted between the
tooth and the gums...and they press it down there as far as it
will go. Of course I flinch...

Hygienist: Oh, did that hurt?

Me, fighting back tears: Hurt? Why would that dagger jabbing
against my jawbone cause any discomfort? Please, feel free to
carry on...

Hygienist: We have to take your blood pressure again.

Me: Ok, I will try to think pleasant thoughts to calm me down.

The verdict...they have to numb me up first. This will involve
sticking a few needles into my gums. Sounds like a good
alternative, right? How many people do you know that have to
be drugged just for a teeth cleaning?

Now that I am dumb and numb, they can aggressively probe
and scrape to their heart's content. Without my howls of pain to
indicate whether they are hitting my spinal cord or not, they
probe a little too aggressively.

Suddenly she stops, and gives me a big stare.

Me, mumbling because my mouth is numb: Ith there a problem?

Hygienist: Uh, I don't think so...

I know she is lying because I can see the reflection of my mouth
in her glasses, and what I see is not pretty (although I have to
say, red is a pretty color).

She summons Doctor Torquemada, she asks him to bring needle
and thread. I guess she has over-aggressively scraped and
probed, now we have need of some sewing action.

"Let's see if we can get this done before the Novocain wears
off," he muses to himself. "How's his blood pressure doing?"
I don't think it matters at this point, it isn't very likely
that they are going to stop what they are doing now.

When they are done, they ask if I would like to schedule my next
appointment. "Sure, pencil me in for February 30," I say.

Oh, and when I am done, I get to go to the Tax guy to give
him my tax stuff. But the good part is, I get home in time for
a nap!

Peace be with you.