Going to the dentist.
It’s one of those things in life that people either love or hate. Certainly, I’d rather not have someone stick their fist in my mouth and shove pointy instruments into the recesses of my bleeding-prone gums. Certainly, I’d prefer to not have to utter the lie that of course I floss yet again. And certainly, it would be great if I could leave the dentist once – just once – without having lips dryer than a crusty pie. I mean, really. It’s like someone just took a weed wacker to my pucker uppers. Blech.
But alas, all weekend long I’ve had a shooting pain in my lower molars/gums that has left me to only be able to chew on the right side of my mouth. Which is obviously a very serious problem because this slows down the rate of masticating immensely. And if I can’t shove a cookie down my throat fast enough, well, watch out world. My double chin was starting to recede and frankly, I can’t have that.
So this morning I went in to have a little check up on it (Beyonce anyone? Anyone?). It was a new dentist I was met with. He was very friendly and smart and let’s just say he left no stone unturned. I was asked to bit down on a piece of paper. Then a cotton ball. Then a plastic stick thing. And when that was over, he then took his sharp sword of doom and stabbed down to measure something or another. This was followed by a dictation of “bleeding,” “bleeding,” “bleeding.”
I’m just grateful there was a TV installed above my head in the ceiling and that it was on Cartoon Network. Because there’s nothing like Scooby Doo to take your mind off the fact that if the fucking dentist jams his fucking tool on your fucking sore tooth one more fucking time, you will bite down on his fucking finger and rip it off.
(Insert forced smile of forgiveness).
Turns out that though I have “overall beautiful teeth” (what does that even mean), I currently have an infection in my molar/gums that is causing my lymphnode to swell like a golf ball and as the kind doctor repeated at least three times, “acts like a stubbed toe that hurts worse because you keep wearing tight shoes and hitting your foot against a wall.” I still can’t figure out if he was actually using that as a metaphor, or referring to the fact that I was wearing sky high wedges. Whatever.
I also learned today that there is some slight crowding in the front of both my upper and lower teeth. This could mean being a brace face in my 20s. Though, we’re “monitoring” the situation. It seems invisiline could be the cure. (RE: that is the only cure I will accept. I escaped metal mouth as a pre-teen. I will not enter that world now. No siree).
Oh, and I have a cavity that needs to be filled. Said cavity will cost me 90 bucks to fill. Awesome. Don’t you just love tooth decay?
So, now that I’ve sufficiently grossed you out for the day, I hope you enjoy your afternoon. I certainly am. That chocolate chip cookie was orgasmic.
- Are Dentists As Scary As Clowns? (kompletelykrista.wordpress.com)
- Dental Anxiety (daphnepropst.wordpress.com)