I went to the dentist today! Hey, whoever is keeping the record, please also note that I’ve actually had two dentist check-up visits within a year’s time. That is a marked improvement from my ‘six or seven years between visits’ standard.
My appointment was at 3:15, and I blissfully sank into the chair that just happened to be at the same angle as my sleeping chair and nearly fell asleep. Then Jenny* got out her pointy tool to evaluate my teeth.
I thought we might be all done, but then she said, “Well, you have just a little bit of tartar on each and every tooth in all the nooks and crannies in your mouth and maybe some up in your brain. Sit back and relax while I blast it out with a jackhammer.”
I jest. She was really, really sweet and I really did just have little spots, but they were in between all of my teeth (I don’t floss regularly). She used a water-assisted scraper and it wasn’t too awful. The worst part was how my eyes hurt from staring at the fluorescent lights for so long. After a while I tried to estimate how many triangles make up the light cover on a 2′ x 4′ fixture, and I’m going with 80,000. Sccccrrrrrraaaaaape.
When it was over I got a goody bag full of stuff. This was different from previous visits where they would offer me a toothbrush and I’d politely decline. Heck, Lloyd and I have had the same one since we got married, why would we need another one? (Again, I jest.) This time she just handed me things that might perhaps keep the scraping and jabbing to a minimum.
I’ll do my best, Jenny.
When I was back visiting the actual dentist, I asked Lynn (dental assistant extraordinaire) that I wished I had asked Jenny: Based on a scale of 1 to 10 — 10 being the worst teeth you’ve worked on today – how bad were my teeth?
Lynn laughed, left the room, and came back with the answer: 2 and a half. Not too shabby, huh?
* I’m not sure if that’s her name.