The human mouth has a surprising amount of saliva. I discovered this once again on my most recent trip to the dentist’s.
Ah, the dentist’s. That chair holds several joyful childhood memories. For me, it has always been a place of great happiness. Looking back, it’s rather ironic that they gave you lollipops when you left. Always loved the dentist’s. Until my teeth became adolescents and started rebelling…i.e. got cavities.(Not milk.)
So the other day I traipse on over for a visit because one of my teeth is hurting. This may have been the beginning of the end of the passionate love affair that was me and the dentist’s chair. I mean dude. It vibrates. And acts like Robocop, with all the fun-sounding whirring. Love was destined to blossom in such optimum conditions (as opposed to in the time of cholera).
So anyway. After waiting for like 2 hours, I finally saw the dentist. (And sat in the chair. Don’t ever forget the chair.) He told me what was wrong with my tooth, etc. During this, of course, he had to look inside my mouth. Then something had to be done in my mouth; enter the suctioning thingy. After annihilating any chance of a steamy rendezvous with the dentist (who really was cute, but really, after you see a girl drooling uncontrollably, a date isn’t the first thing that comes to mind), he gave me a mouthwash that was supposed to have a ‘pleasantly flavored aqueous base.’ The long and short of that was: LIE!!!
There was still hope for this relationship when I came back the next time, toothache again. I got in to see the dentist almost immediately (at last! Reunited with my love: the chair). My dentist this time was a lady (yay! Face: Saved!). I don’t think I can ever really get used to the whole let’s-talk-about-mundane-things-while-doing-surgery thing. You see it in the movies, but assume it never happens…oh, it does. I was thinking the whole time, if I move my tongue, it will be sliced off by the lethal-looking instrument she’s waving about, seeing as she’s not even LOOKING at my mouth while laughing about sijui whose outfit.
And then there’s the 3 injections. As if I wasn’t drooling enough already, she numbed the entire right side of my jaw. It’s really disconcerting when your lip won’t listen to you. Especially when you’re telling it to close. On the plus side, if I had gotten into a violent brawl with say, the dentist’s assistant (or the chair), I would’ve totally won, because I couldn’t feel a thing. My pugilist ambitions would be well realized…as long as she kept hitting my right jaw. (Don’t touch the face? HA! You can’t hurt – um, touch, this!) I was tempted to punch myself, but I settled for chewing nervously on my inner lip.
What bothered me was the fact that I had gone in for a simple check-up, only to be told that I had a broken filling, a cavity and a soon-to-be cavity (when I grow up, I want to be…decaying?). As you can imagine, I now no longer drink soda. The price of sugar is too high to pay. During the surgery, I kept thinking when will it be over…and WHY ISN’T SHE LOOKING INTO MY MOUTH, DAMMIT…
I got out of the chair. At last. I went to the counter to pay my bill. The receptionist then tells me, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, your insurance doesn’t cover dental. And your last bill wasn’t paid either.’
p.s. Can you believe I only just watched Set It Off? Great movie. Who knew Organized Noise wrote Don’t Let Go (En Vogue)? Me neither. Yes, I don’t know what I was doing with myself in 1996 either. Maybe I was at the dentist’s.