Thursday

Morning Torture

"Make yourself at home" she says. As if this is a relaxing visit to Great Aunt Bertha and at any moment the old dear herself will appear with bundt cake and tea. Instead, you've spent the last half an hour reading several out-of-date gardening and parenting magazines, after which, the receptionist lead you to the high-backed, plastic coated chair upon which you sit now.

After deliberating where to place your purse and bags (are one of those chairs ok? Does she use both of those? Is the floor clean? What about this counter?) the smiling dental hygenist enters the room. She clicks her tongue at you after hearing your response to the dreaded floss question:

"Well, I floss sometimes...I guess. Maybe once a week?"

Meanwhile in your head you mentally search for the last time you ate steak, corn or celery, knowing that that was probably the last time a ribbon of minty fresh plastic coated string saw the inside of your mouth.

The thought of steak reminds you that you haven't even eaten breakfast for fear of a wayward Cheerio getting caught in your molars, causing the dentist to think that you are incapable of even a simple task like brushing your teeth.

As your stomach growls, the hygenist ties a grown-up bib around your neck and pats it down approvingly. The tray of hooked instruments glints in the sun. Probes, picks and other periodontal punishment tools just waiting to be jabbed into your vulnerable mouth.

Thankfully there's a television in the ceiling and while worrying about your mouth hurting may seem trivial compared to wondering just who exactly installed that television and whether or not they knew what they were doing, it is a welcome distraction from the scraping of layers off your teeth.

That is, until you realize they're showing the food network. Thanks geniuses, now I'm even more starving. Wishing you were as cheerful as Rachel Ray looks, talking about her olive and chickpea salad and chirizo sausage rice, you realize the hygenist has finally finished with her incessant scraping.

The polishing is almost worse, the gritty blue paste getting caught between your newly cleaned spaces, although you're hungry enough to consider swallowing it. What is it about the dentist that causes you to feel as though you haven't eaten in days?

Fluoride is next on the docket. At least you have the choice between bubblegum or mint. The former tastes so sweet you wonder if maybe the dentist is really just trying to drum up a little extra business, while the latter burns every last millimeter of your mouth that you thought was free of pain.

Next you're shuffled off to another room to wait for the Doctor. He enters in a flurry papers and running shoes, his tie thrown over his shoulder and shirt sleeves rolled up as though he's about to operate.

You wonder how he remembers every detail about you ("why yes Dr. I did get that promotion six months ago, it's going well and yes, my sisters are great. No, I haven't yet enrolled in those Villanella dance classes...) and rack your brain to remember something, anything, personal about him (...is he married?)

Luckily your teeth are fine, so you sign your name on the insurance papers, book another appointement for six months from now and think about what you're going to have for lunch. As you stroll out the doors into the fresh morning air you hear the hygenist call after you:

"Remember not to eat for at least half an hour! Have a great day!"

At least you got a new toothbrush out of the deal.

10 comments:

Unknown said...

I really think I'd punch Rachel Ray if I ever saw her. I can't take that kind of cheeriness.

Anonymous said...

I love that dentist. And yes, he always seemed to remember all these weird details I barely remembered. I bet he writes these things down and has a look through his notes before your appointment. ;) Great post btw, I like the style of writing.

ANG* said...

there is nothing i hate more than the dentist.

seriously. the flying bits of shit flying around in your mouth as the drill or even just clean. or the talking while their hands are in your mouth. or the drool that just sits in your mouth till they suck it out. or or or that fact that i went there yesterday and i am going to have to pay nearly 5K for dental work.

yuck on your morning. i feel for ya. hope you had an amazing lunch, of course, 30 mins afterwards...

P said...

I think I'm maybe dentist-phobic but didn't realise sooner because up until I moved out, our family dentist was 10 miles away so we always went as a family and therefore i didn't get a choice in whether i went or not. I'm too scared to go back now though!

The Imaginary Reviewer said...

I'm British, so I hate the dentist with a passion unmatched by anyone around me.

Lyla Lou said...

I had to switch dentists recently because of new insurance. One of my fillings had fallen out and I really needed to go ASAP, so I picked one at random. I think he was still drunk, I almost walked out. Luckily he did a pretty good job!

Stephanie said...

This was really well written. Haha, sucks about that half an hour wait though.

Kez said...

Oh my gawsh, reading this post gave me the heeby jeebies. I can't stand going to the dentist's (who actually loves it?) and I started getting flashbacks and could almost taste the stuff they clean your teeth with when I read this.
*shivers*
I am so gonna have nightmares now!

Anonymous said...

This style of writing reminds me of the book 'the hours'. You us it well, but I cant stand this style of writing. I like your usual more personal style way better.

goingon27

Sarah Elizabeth said...

Haha love this post! It is so true! I'm just getting caught up on blog reading, so forgive the late comment.