Full Brain goes mental in the Dental Chair

  

Went to the dentist for a cleaning last summer. Still processing the brain waves.

Ya know, those chairs are quite inviting if they’d seat you, turn the lights off, and leave for an hour.   

The young technician actually offered me a little pillow to put behind my neck.

Then she cranked me upside down, dropped a lead apron on my fragile body, and shoved a metal frame into my mouth before snapping (quick as a glacier moves), four X-ray pictures. 

The pillow was for my comfort.

 

 

As the blood rushed into my already full brain, I began to think extra fast. Because…

 

Dental cleanings give us lots of time to think. The problem is, your brain can’t travel far, cuz you need to be alert enough to move your head to the right when she says to do so. And then there’s the questions.

 

Why do they ask questions when their fingers are in your mouth? And not even ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions.

 

Tooth Tech: “How much rain did you get?”

Horizontal me: “ughrumf”

TT: “Are you goin’ anywhere on vacation?”

HM: “uh hu, fararado.”

 

There’s just no way to chat politely with fingers in your mouth. Grunting is allowed, but frowned upon by bystanders whose lips can actually make a frown. Lips which are yanked apart, mashed, and smothered with latex cannot frown.

 

I got to thinking…

If you only see some professionals twice a year (thankfully) like the dentist, how can they remember your name?

I’ll bet these people who know your personal business, I’m talkin’ your mouth/teeth/tongue/gums/wiggly stalactite thingy business, like the dentist, probably think of you like this:

 

The receptionist/claim filer: “Good Morning! (Ms. Stingy Insurance).

 

The input/X-ray tech: “C’mon in, take a seat, (little Miss Gag-Reflex, I’m gonna have to run between the machines so she don’t puke).

 

The Actual Cleaner: “Good Morning, how are we today? (Ms. 4 crowns, needs to floss more).”

 

The Dentist: “Good Morning! (Ms. second mandibular molar with the intermedial crack that better hurry up and break so I can crown it.)”

 

Actually, the folks at my dentist’s office are a pretty friendly bunch. The dentist doesn’t really want my tooth to crack, or so he claims. But I saw him parking his truck and my crown would certainly finance a sweet upgrade.

To be honest, it was a well-used pickup, dusty and dented. This is good because my dentist is already young, tall, dark and handsome, so a clean truck would make him all-around unbelievably too purty.

When he talked to me, I thought of his dirty vehicle so I wouldn’t be so intimidated and awestruck. Ha ha, I’m joking. I thought about how much insurance won’t pay if I gotta get a crown….

Now that I’m thinkin’ clearly, with less blood rushing into my brain, can you imagine dating a dentist? It isn’t enough to worry about, oh, say, your own breath-smell, but what if they are prone to say, cuz their cute self can’t help it, “You have spinach in your third bicuspid?” Or after a passionate kiss, “Hmm, your flavor’s off. You might have a cavity.” Or as you say good night, they’ll advise, in their I-can’t-help-myself-I-love-you-so-much, most professional voice, “Be sure to floss and wear your mouth guard.” Gee, so romantic.

While I’m at it: Does your dentist have a big television that shows not just those annoying Dental Hygiene commercials, but also the inside of your mouth? In color?  The TV hangs in the corner of the ceiling so you can watch them scrape away at your teeth then hose ’em down.

That way you can feel like you’re drownin’ and watch it, too. Let’s use all our senses at once!

My former dentist (many states ago) had that TV set up, and one look made me gag. Career Dental Experts may be fascinated viewing a glistening saliva-red gaping maw, but for this particular owner it was just too disgusting.

Which prompts me to say, cuz I’m cheap, if you’re gonna bill me for that gooey mess, turn it off! I don’t like paying to be grossed out for no good reason. Gimme a reason, and maybe…

 

 

 

But my dental peeps really are a great crew, so I’ll mention them personally, as a sort of testimonial advertisement: there’s Ms. White Cloth Mask Chic Hair Style, Miss Blue Mask Nuclear Powered Headlight, Ms. Short Hair-Fancy Fingernails at the computer, and Dentist Dr. Cute E. Pie Dirty Truck.

 

What does your brain think about in the dental crank ’em back chair?

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Full Brain Goes Mental in the Dental Chair

  1. Deanna Borman says:

    This is So very funny! I read it, then I read it out loud to my husband! We really enjoyed this! Keep it up Andrea!
    and Happy Thanksgiving!

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