Dentistry 101

So I went to the dentist.  It’s been about a decade since my last appointment, and I figured I should see a tooth person after discovering a pussing sore in my mouth.  Pus… IN MY MOUTH!  Which, it turns out, can just happen with no apparent cause.  (Though I have decided to eat less sharp food.)

Going to the dentist has changed a lot since I was a kid.  For instance, they now frown upon me playing with the toys in the waiting area.  I’m sorry, I thought fun was for every age!

They have also gotten a bit more chiding about that whole flossing thing.  

One thing doesn’t change though, a dentist will always talk about themselves until their hands are in your mouth.  Then they will ask a question.  I can’t help but think they teach it in dentistry school.  I used to think it was just carelessness but after having my dentist, orthodontist, another dentist, and every dental hygienist between them do it, I have to assume they teach it.  Maybe it’s a power thing.  The power to ask a question and then watch the patient squirm in the awkward silence.  I bet they all laugh about it at dental conventions — which are apparently a big deal.  They all get together and say things like, “The other day, with my hand buried deep in a guy’s mouth…”  It’s probably an entire genre of joke for them.  Just like how everyone else tells jokes about people, animals, religious figures walking into a bar.

I, also, apparently have sensitive gums.  A fact I didn’t realize until the hygienist began poking my gums with a razor sharp needle.  She jammed it in like a fat man digging his fork into a raw steak, and when I jerked away she said, “You have sensitive gums.”  Yes, I suppose my gums are very sensitive to shankings.  I don’t think flossing will fix that.

I would have raised that objection, but her hands were still in my mouth.

Posted in Humor.

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