Background

6.23.2011

Trip to the Dentist




Ahh the dentist. I know, most people hate going. Just the word alone. DENTIST... Shudder.

I don't mind the dentist. Probably because I loved the dentist I grew up going to!

Dr. Wise. He was the sweetest man in the world. He had a calm voice that instantly transported me to a tropical island. And the dental hygienists that worked in the office were so nice. And so happy. Like everyday was Christmas. And they all looked like they'd walked out of a Clinique ad~ fresh and natural looking. I even babysat for one of them once.

They must love their job, I'd thought.

Then my Senior year of High School rolled around and each Senior was assigned the task of Senior Internship. Which translated, 'whatever you want to be when you grow up, go do 30 hours of it, and report back.'

So, naturally, I chose to shadow the lovely dental hygienists at Dr. Wise's office.

Day 1 I showed up, green, but eager to learn, and hopefully gather make-up tips on the side!

Dr. Wise asked me to observe a filling.
All was fine. Until the long tube came along. And the blood that flowed along the tube...
The next thing I knew, Dr. Wise was standing over me, and I was carried to his office.

And let me remind you, that was Day 1! I still had 29 1/2 hours of internship to complete. Which I did. But I had become the comic relief in the office!

Hey Bekah, we have to do a filling, do you want to watch? Snicker, snicker!
Very funny!

Needless to say, my profession as a dental hygienist had been made very clear! I'm actually thankful that I passed out that day, instead of going to dental school and paying $3 million in student loans, only to learn that I would not have been a great dental hygienist... I would have been on the floor half the time!

I didn't mind the orthodontist either. And I saw them both. A lot. Because I had one of those mouths that is too small for all my teeth. So in addition to getting my teeth cleaned every six months, I made regular trips to the ortho for molds for my teeth. For oral surgery. To remove my four un-erupted eye teeth. Yep, un-erupted. Doesn't that sound dangerous? Back to my too-small mouth for all those teeth. So, let's just yank out four of her teeth that haven't come in yet? Good idea! Ugh! I had that surgery twice~ one time for the top teeth, and another for the bottom teeth.

And then there were trips for braces. And new wires. And retainer fittings. And 'what sticker am I going to put in the retainer?' Hey, it was cool in those days. And occasionally, I still wear my really cool retainer, with the butterfly sticker in it. Bryan loves it :)

Well, today I went to our new dentist. New because it's been a 1 1/2 years since I last paid him a visit. And not because I was avoiding him. I even filled out the self addressed postcard to be mailed out six months after my last cleaning. And it's been a year and freakin' half! Six months went by and I waited by the mailbox for my dental cleaning reminder. And another six months went by. And then it was winter, and I was cold and tired from standing by the mailbox. And then the holidays hit and you know how that goes. All of a sudden another six months had flown by. And, well, I'd had it with waiting!

So I called. And I could picture the receptionist on the other line. Botoxy lips. Perfectly taut skin. Tan. Sitting in her swivel chair, hugging her body, with one knee up. Sort of like a Victoria's Secret model, but the ones that advertise clothes, the ones with the small shorts and baggy, off-the-shoulder sweater... one that slightly resembles Penelope Cruz!

{My verbal voice} Hi, um, this is Rebekah. I was in a year and a half ago, and I never received a reminder about getting my teeth cleaned...

{My inner voice} I'm taking the bull my the horns, lady, and calling YOU to make the appointment. You probably postpone all your clients in hopes that huge cavities take over their mouths.

Victoria's Secret Receptionist: Uh-huh...

{My inner voice} Uh-huh? Don't you mean to say, "I'm so sorry you didn't receive your reminder postcard. Silly me. I'm sooooo sorry. Let me get you in, oh, how about tomorrow?"

{My verbal voice} My last name is Pogue and my husb-

VSR: -Oh, and your husband's name is Bryan? I can get you guys an appointment in, let's see...

{My inner voice} Did she really just say Bryan's name that fast? It's as if she had our information glued to her computer, as though we were the next name on her reminder call list...

VSR: - Yes, I can schedule you guys in two months..

{My verbal voice} Two months? You have nothing sooner?

{My inner voice} What? Now it's one year and eight months! All my teeth could fall out in the next two months! A possible cavity could turn into a potential root canal!

VSR: Nope, that's the soonest. Yawn.

{My verbal voice} Fine. I'll take two late morning appointments, please.

You get how this was going....

So I went today. And sure enough. Victoria's Secret Receptionist was looking as botoxy and taught and tan as ever. And I would have sworn her mesh, off-the-shoulder sweater had a bathing suit top underneath it. But she smiled, and I grabbed the latest issue of OK and took a seat.

And the dental hygienist was rather sweet. And the tropical beach canvas hanging high on the wall was rather nice. And the dentist... well, he shook hands like Mr. Limpet.
But I had no cavities. So, I guess it wasn't that bad, for a place I only have to visit every six months... or year and half for that matter!

And at least I didn't have to observe a filling :)




No comments:

Post a Comment