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Wednesday, July 09, 2003
| HERBIE DOESN'T LIKE TO MAKE TOYS
Ok, so today was my bi-annual visit to the dentist. I must say that as a kid, I never minded going to the dentist, but the older I get, the more and more I dislike it. I don't exactly know when it happened, but it was the change in hygienist that triggered this disdain for the experience of having my teeth cleaned. Suddenly--somewhere during my late teens, I think--instead of hygienists, my dentist apparently decided to hire former meat packers, or someone like that, because now all they do is dig around in my mouth with big metal hooks. I never remember having to take an entire day and a half to recover from a visit to the dentist that only involved a cleaning. Now, it takes that long for my poor aching gums to return to normal. It's crazy. Sitting in the chair today, slack-jawed and mouth agape, there was a moment when I actually winced and physically flinched as the hook dug into my gumline. I had a small tear in the corner of my eye--like when someone punches you in the nose, your eyes well up as a natural reaction. It was painful. And then, she had to use the lumberjack technique with the floss--like she was trying to saw through my already red and raw gums (the state of which was caused by her giant steel hook). And it's not even nice waxed floss. I mean, I know, Glide Floss would be too much to hope for, but come on...not even waxed? No, no. No minty flavor, no easy sliding wax. Nope. It may as well have been a roll of twine from Home Depot. And don't get me wrong, here. I LOVE my dentist. He is the greatest man on the planet. When I got my teeth busted up playing basketball (Dec. 23, 1994 vs. Colgate University--yes, the irony is too much, I know) my dentist came into the office on Christmas Eve to fix my choppers and save me from 3 days of "All I want for Christmas is my 2 front teeth" taunts. He is never rough, and is very conscious of inflicting pain (or avoiding doing that). He tries (quite successfully) to keep his patients at ease and calm in what, for some, is a place of very high anxiety. He actually hides the novocaine needle behind his back until the last possible minute when it's time for a filling. That's the kind of guy he is. But, he needs to work on hiring some kinder, gentler hygienists. Anyone else have this problem? ¶ Ξ PDawg Composed at 10:54:00 PM |
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