A trip to the filling station

There’s nothing like being a night owl and having to get up earlier than usual to go to a 7:00 a.m. dentist appointment. The only way it gets any better is if the appointment is to get a tooth filled. So you might expect I was positively giddy with anticipation when I pulled up outside my dentist’s office this morning at 6:58 to see a man about a cavity.

The fact that I was unfed and uncaffienated also boosted my mood. I had deferred my breakfast and my coffee out of courtesy to the professional staff since even the best coffee smells foul second-hand and even with a good tooth and tongue scrubbing before leaving the house I didn’t want to run the risk of having breakfast remnants hanging off of my pearly whites. You’d like to think dentists and hygienists aren’t easily grossed out, but when you’re going to be on your back underneath them with your mouth pulled wide open, why take a chance?

I know a lot of people have made jokes about how the dentist insists on talking to you when you’ve got your mouth full of stuff. My dentist isn’t like that, preferring to chit-chat with his assistant. This morning both were all a-twitter about the latest American Idol developments and the ousting of someone called “The Pickler.” I don’t follow this show except for what I see on Bogus Gold so I don’t have any attachments to the contestants. My dentist, however, is a big fan of Katherine and told his assistant that he plans to vote for her 100 times. My eyebrows may have been knit closely together at that point, perhaps giving the false impression I was interested in the topic. “Who do you like?” he asked.

Ok, when a guy has needles as long as your arm, high-powered pointy objects and knows where all your nerves are you want to be darn sure you don’t poke one of his nerves accidentally. “Urrr, KAFF-FRYN,” I managed to get out.

Now that everyone was comfortably numb it was time to move to the drilling part of the show. I know, again, everyone hates this part and has their own horror stories. I don’t mind it, really, because I try to look on the bright side of things. In this case, it is an excellent opportunity for me to working on shaping and toning my butt cheeks.

Things went very well, however, and I was back in my car ahead of schedule. Of course, my mouth and lips were numb enough to kiss Hillary Clinton but I knew that would pass. I was still numb on one side by the time I got to work and discovered there were muffins to be had. I was pretty hungry, so I took one and tried to carefully push pieces of it where they needed to go without spilling crumbs or slobber down my shirt. It’s amazing how much you can take such a simple and common function for granted until you have to really think about what you’re doing. I apparently didn’t think quite hard enough, however, because at one point the muffin seemed to be a little too tough and chewy and I realized I had inadvertently (of course it was inadvertent) snagged a piece of my lower lip into the mashing works.

Therefore it is time to cut back on the sweets and brush longer and harder to take better care of my teeth. Events like today’s help remind me that I need another cavity like I need, well, another hole in my head.

2 thoughts on “A trip to the filling station

  1. I’m convinced dentists train by reading Nazi torture manuals.

    (Ok, I jest. Mostly. They’ve gotten a lot better over the years.)

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