Dentist this morning.
I have a lovely young lady that takes the x-rays and cleans my teeth. She’s pretty gentle with me and the experience is more annoying than painful. It’s just an uncomfortable hour of sitting there hoping my stomach doesn’t growl and that the three brushings I did with cinnamon flavored Crest was enough to kill any evil oral aromas that might be lingering from last night’s supper.
I did have a little laugh as I was walking toward the dentist’s office, though. I spotted a couple of those flossing sticks lying on the sidewalk like a pair of disgarded cigarette butts;clearly someone’s desperate last minute attempt to cram six months of promised flossing into sixty seconds.
I’ve long since stop pretending that I floss regularly. She pretty much had that figured out by the time she brings out the jack hammer to break up the hard yellowish tartar deposit that forms in the spaces of my lower front teeth between cleanings.
But this was no normal check-up; I’ve been having trouble (pain) off and on since having a crown installed on one side and a deep cavity filled on the other late last summer.
Dr. Graber warned that he had to go awfully deep and there was a fifty/fifty chance the nerves might start to make their presence felt. Turns out I drew the short straw and have been gobbling Advil tablets like M&M’s ever since.
“You’ve got two options, Doug,” the dentist said, “extraction..or root canal.”
So, I have an appointment with another dentist or orthodontist or whatever he’s called, who specializes in root canals because Dr. Graber doesn’t do them.
Too bad because I really need the gas (nitrous) to help me mellow out before someone with drills and sharp objects goes digging around in my mouth.
But the specialist doesn’t do gas for some reason. He won’t put you under either. Apparently he feels it’s vitally important that his patients experience his root canals while we’re totally wide awake and free of all drugs.
I wonder how he feels about me having three or four straight shots of vodka before my 6:45 AM appointment!
Yup..6:45 in the morning.
Anybody who sees patients at that ridiculous hour must want to make darn sure the screaming is over by the time other people in the office building show up for work.
Since I need two root canals, I was kind of hoping they could be done at the same session to get it over with but that apparently isn’t an option either.
So, I’ll just have to ‘man up’ I guess and be glad I live in an age where all dental work has been rendered relatively painless thanks to new and improved anesthetics.
Wait a minute..this “specialist” uses modern anesthetics doesn’t he?
“Linda, will you toss me the phone book?”
