Warning: This blog contains the word, 'fucking.' As a matter of fact, I use the word, 'fucking,' SEVEN times. It truly emphasizes how I feel about doctors and dentists. Now I can say it's used NINE times because I used it two more times in this warning. Haha. Blogging is fun.
It was a balmy April day. I went for a cleaning. Whilst my teeth were being cleaned, the hygienist talked about 1)getting married in Las Vegas next year, 2) why she can't grill on her little balcony of her apartment, 3) why she can't sleep in her apartment because she needed darker curtains, 4)how she bought 'black out' curtains and whoo-hoo, they were only ten bucks someplace, 5) how everyone she knows wants to go to her pseudo-elopement wedding in Las Vegas next year, 6) how she was going to have to find a chapel to find room for all the people who are coming, 7) how she wants to buy a house but is hesitant to go out looking, and 8) something about her mother being too motherly.
All of that was done while dental tools and/or fingers were in my mouth AND I couldn't say anything. I made grunting noises. ("Urk." "Snortle." "Uh-humm." "Nerdle.")
So that frustration aside, the dentist comes in. I'll call him Dr. N, Jr. Dr. N., Jr. inserts digits, and not in a nice way, and tells me that one really old filling is coming apart and needs to be replaced. I'm able to talk by that time and say, "Well, it's probably like thirty years old because it's been that long since I've had one." Whereupon, Dr. N, Jr. has to one up me and says he's seen ones much older. The upshot of it is that I have to come back to do the fillings later. ("Well, okay, if I have to.")
|Dr. N., Jr. explaining the difference|
between kinds of teeth. That's a twinkle
on his own tooth, too.
Notice the highly technical chart he's using.
So Dr. N., Sr. numbs it down with a large Q-tip covered with something brown and smelling medicinal. Then he brings out the needle. This is the biggest fucking needle I've ever seen. And I've been around the block. And the needle goes into my mouth. Now my mouth has been numbed just for the needle, and I suddenly understand why. (It's the biggest fucking needle I've ever seen and it's going into my mouth. I abruptly understand why some people have to be put unconscious during dental work.) He applies pressure but oh, hell, he's not done. He goes in for another spot. Then a third. (It's my personal belief that the needle was large so that he wouldn't have to stop for a refill. Example of a dentist saying something wrongity-wrong to a patient, "Sorry, but I have to stop to refill the six inch long needle with more medication. Can you wait?")
By that time my upper lip has gone numb. But I've got spit accumulating in the back of my throat and I'm about to drown. He hauls his assistant in to apply suction to my spit. (Dentists have suck work but the assistants really have the icky jobs.)
Once I'm clear from choking to death on my own saliva they run off to parts unknown while the medication takes effect. (I can only assume they didn't want to listen to me gripe about the size of the fucking needle.) So I took a picture with my Droid.
|My View From Dentist Position 1|
(Is that a speck of blood on the lamp?
Hmm. How did that happen? That's why there's plastic
on the handles, fyi.)
|What a View. I think a happy face|
on the side of this building would
help dental patients immensely.
|This is what I was forced to look at while|
I had elephant fingers in my mouth.
I blacked out the website names
because I didn't want to get sued for libel
although it's a true story.
|Do these tools look like something Joseph Mengele|
would use? I think they do. And I think those white
tubey things on the platter are earplugs for the dentist
to be used when the patient starts to scream.
|This is my ass moving upward without|
any logical means of support.
It's a physiological mystery.
So then Dr. N., Sr. plunged something that looked like a laser gun in my mouth and said, "Mouth open bigger." (For those participating in the drinking game. DRINK YOUR SHOT NOW!) I didn't even get a please then and I think even the doctor's teeth were a little gritted at that time. I couldn't keep my mouth open if I had wanted to and besides that's why he had the FUCKING clamp in there. He banged both upper and lower teeth getting the X-Ray gun-Jetson Tool in my mouth, and muttered something I couldn't hear. (Half the time I couldn't tell if he was talking to me or the assistant. I can only assume that, "Keep your mouth open," was NOT meant for the assistant unless they have a very special relationship.)