Thursday, September 29, 2005
no cavities
that's the official word from my new dentist. it had been quite some time since my last visit with anyone professional. I had taken a knife to my front teeth to remove some staining a few times though. what can I say? I didn't have benefits for a year and a half.
sitting with my feet dangling off the sides of the reclining chair, I could make out a pleasant skyline and crisp white clouds. there are actually trees visible through the window in the cubicle. then, I was taking in a nice view of that overhead lamp when it hit me all at once: this whole teeth cleaning thing must be terrifying for some people. metallic sharp probing. hands pushing your jaw open and squishing your tongue. your shoulder occasionally catching a slight glancing lean from a body part of unknown origin (ok- I'm pretty sure it was her left breast).
the thought of someone going crazy in that very chair crossed my mind a couple times. I even made a picture in my head of a girl shaking out of fear of getting a steely stab in the gums. of course, the shaking would make it worse- which should account for the creation of a dental self-fullfilling prophecy: you think you'll be stabbed, therefore you shake, and therefore you cause the assistant or hygenist to lose control of the tool just enough to send your lip a cutting reminder of just why you are so terrified.
then I cracked myself up and decided to stop thinking about people going crazy in chairs in the dental office. I'm trying to cut back on the whole unprovoked giggling thing, you see. soon, I had my hand full of free dental accessories and one foot out the door. and let me just say- my teeth feel sensational. is there anything better then a good hygenist?
sitting with my feet dangling off the sides of the reclining chair, I could make out a pleasant skyline and crisp white clouds. there are actually trees visible through the window in the cubicle. then, I was taking in a nice view of that overhead lamp when it hit me all at once: this whole teeth cleaning thing must be terrifying for some people. metallic sharp probing. hands pushing your jaw open and squishing your tongue. your shoulder occasionally catching a slight glancing lean from a body part of unknown origin (ok- I'm pretty sure it was her left breast).
the thought of someone going crazy in that very chair crossed my mind a couple times. I even made a picture in my head of a girl shaking out of fear of getting a steely stab in the gums. of course, the shaking would make it worse- which should account for the creation of a dental self-fullfilling prophecy: you think you'll be stabbed, therefore you shake, and therefore you cause the assistant or hygenist to lose control of the tool just enough to send your lip a cutting reminder of just why you are so terrified.
then I cracked myself up and decided to stop thinking about people going crazy in chairs in the dental office. I'm trying to cut back on the whole unprovoked giggling thing, you see. soon, I had my hand full of free dental accessories and one foot out the door. and let me just say- my teeth feel sensational. is there anything better then a good hygenist?
