Posted by: dougery | May 3, 2011

Cavity Search (and Destroy)

Recently, I went to the dentist. By ‘recently’ I mean for the first time in 10 years. As an old man, this counts as almost a third of my life. Still, I was expecting some damage control. X-rays were taken but all-in-all they were optimistic. I was in good shape. Flossing actually works, and so forth.

Today I went back in to discuss the x-rays. Turns out I have two cavities. Fair enough. A decade of dental visit disobedience and two cavities? Fine. What I wasn’t prepared for was the immediate launching into fix said cavities. or at least one of them. A catalog of things I loved about this trip to the dentist.

a) The way a drill sounds while doing its drill thing from inside my own head.
b) A shot to numb the area. Thus a needle poking around inside my own head. They are bad enough when searching for the sweet spot in the crook of your elbow.
c) Of having the dentist take an interest in my old profession while my mouth is crammed with instruments. “Agh UFfsed tug bvee ugh Vookfpheller! I vread a flot of Vooks!”
d) Of having ones head lower than the rest of ones body, and then trying not to drown when all of your salivary glands go nuts because something is invading and spraying enamel fragments all over the place.
e) Of having the entire left side of my mouth numb and useless. Naturally as soon as I get to work I receive 3 phones calls. The sum total of phonecalls received at work in the 6 months before today? 2.
f) The very comforting remarks of the dentist to the hygeinist “No, not that one. The one with the light. I’m used to the one with the light on it.” He was talking about a dental drill or some other delicate instrument of destruction. Hygienist, “The light one is broken.” Dentist sighs, “Oh well…”
g) being told to rinse and spit while half your lower lip is a droopy mess. The bib’s there for a reason.

The dentist asked me if I’d read anything especially good lately. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the novel I just finished (which was terrific) was about a werewolf and the filthiest read I’ve come across in years. Picturing the man, an older-ish gentleman, sitting on a beach in Fort Lauderdale reading the Last Werewolf and coming across all the, well, dirty dirty sex just made me kind of sad. Like he should have been reading a novelty book about golf, or a biography of Churchill.

An architecture professor of mine once put his arm across my shoulders and asked, “You ever feel like taking some stranger’s empty cart at the grocery store and filling it with what food you imagine they would buy?”

I shook my head no, because nobody had ever thought this before and also he was kind of crazy. Presuming what someone else would like to read isn’t that different I suppose. Anyhow, my cheek is tingling back to life.

Watching: Dexter S4



  1. I laughed out loud.

    Also, Dexter Season 4 is awesome.

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