Dentists are good people. Dentists are good people.
I honestly do believe this to be true. I keep chanting the words in case I forget. The positive thought generally flies out the window when I hear the words… “How long since you’ve had a check up?” The temptation to lie is overwhelming. My mind quickly considers the fib I want to tell vs. the believability of it. I finally settle for…It’s been a while.
“Lets lay you back and have a look.” It’s then that every fear I can possibly imagine comes screaming to the forefront. I am suddenly six years old and pretty sure I heard something dark and threatening under the chair.
The green chair begins to hum, down I go and the world tilts on its axis. Then comes the attempt to make me feel comfortable. “So, how are you enjoying this weather?” I have a metal pick, a rod with some kind of mirror on the end and a suction tube in my mouth. Why would I be inclined to have a conversation?
Then we get to the heart of the matter. Presented with a list of my oral concerns that has to be five pages long, single spaced, I glance at the bottom line. Holy Moly. Since my last visit, dental work has apparently increased to a cost consistent with that of a gold bar.
There is no question in my mind that my dentist is the at top in his field. Absolutely THE best. But the question I must now consider…how much is my house really worth? And yes, I acknowledge they can put me out for part of the work. But won’t I have to wake up at some point? I am allergic to pain. Didn’t I mention that under the section “Allergic”? Did he read that part???
Dentists are good people.
“You might feel a little stick.”
OK. Time to get a grip. I’m an adult. And adults are supposed to handle things like this. Right? I just hope the good doctor understands when, during the procedure, I keep yelling for my Momie!!
As he tells me to count backward from 10, I hear the shrill sound of a drill.
Dentists are good people.
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