Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Dentist

I had a dentist appointment this morning.

I was not particularly excited about visiting the dentist, but I had to due to pain and some of Mrs. A's previous tooth issues that worsened when ignored that lead me to pay attention to pain. There was a new patient form to fill out that even had a question about being nervous visiting the dentist. I wanted to say yes, because I was in fact nervous about visiting to the dentist. However, there was an "If yes, why ___________" and I did not feel like answering that question.

But it was not because of the film The Dentist.

When I finally got beyond the waiting room I was lead to a good-size room without doors. I was not very thrilled by the lack of doors. Also, I later noticed that the cabinet on one wall was shared by the room next door and I could see into that room (and vice versa) which was also displeasing. In front of "the chair" was a window. There were venetian blinds that could be lowered so that the house across the street couldn't see in to the room, but they were not lowered. I watched their dogs sit in the shade and wander off, though, which was mildly entertaining. As much as watching dogs disappear and reappear all while doing nothing spectacular can be entertaining.

However, when it came time for the X-Rays, I was reminded of a very familiar aspect of any dentist visit -- the taste. Taste, you say? Taste, I say. You see, rather than doing X-Rays the quick, easy way of sitting my chin at an uncomfortable angle (due to my height being above four-and-a-half feet) while the X-Ray machine moves around my head and tries to give me slowly developing, untraceable nasal cancer. No. I would presume it is because my teeth are no longer coming in and I am an adult now. So I must get intraoral X-Rays and I must repeatedly have what I presume is film, covered in protective plastics, with a little circular target that extended out while I had to bite down, but not too hard. And then she aimed the X-Ray machine at my mouth, quite closely at times. Not my favorite method but I suppose I'll need to get used to it.

But it was not then, with gloved hands and dental instruments in my mouth, that I had my moment of dental nostalgia. It was when the implements were removed (repeatedly with the 20 or so X-Rays) that I tasted the familiar dentist taste. I don't know what it is. Perhaps it is the gloves or perhaps it is the plastic around the film. I'm not entirely sure, but it was strangely comforting.

Which is good, because when I go back, I can say, "Hey, stick your hands in my mouth; it's for science."


Lauren said...

OH I hate the dentist...and I hate how those X-ray forms taste! Yuck!

Mrs. A said...

for a second there I thought you were going to recount the dentist scene from "Little Shop of Horrors" :)

Katie said...

the funny thing is...I had a dentist appointment yesterday too--and while, I loathe the dentist, it wasn't so bad. besides, I had no cavities, for like, the first time in a LONG time. I HATE the dentist with a passion--would RATHER be poked and prodded by the gyno.

Mrs. J said...

Poor Mr. A! I have avoided the dreaded dentist all year. I have to have all three wisdom teeth pulled and...I'm a chicken. If they ask that question about being nervous, I'm going to say yes. I hope they provide extra paper for the explanation of all the procedures I've gone through recently and why putting me under beats getting bitten or kicked. Then they'd better READ IT. ::sighs:: I hope you are feeling ok, though.