Had someone asked me the top five things I wouldn't be doing yesterday at 5pm, going to the dentist would have been near the top of the list. Like most people, I hate the dentist. I hate everything about it- the waiting room, the paperwork, the scraping, the suction tube thingy, the spit cup, and the condescending demonstration of the proper way to floss. It's a piece of string. You run it between your teeth. I get it. Going to the dentist isn't supposed to be an enjoyable experience, but it shouldn't be dreaded. I avoided it as long as I could. I brushed and flossed longer and harder in the past year than I ever have thinking I could avoid the dentist. I was wrong.
For about the past week, I had a little pain in my upper molar on the left side of my mouth. It only happened while eating and mostly sweet foods at that. It wasn't unbearable, but I knew a trip to the dentist was in order. As a child of the internet age, I went to 1-800-DENTIST.com. I filled out a little info and was given a few choices for local dentists. I read some of the reviews and chose an office. With some trepidation, I clicked for an appointment and waited for a call. A few minutes later, the receptionist called me and I told her I needed an exam and cleaning. I was thinking two weeks. She had just had a cancellation and was thinking 5 0'clock.
My main problem with going to the dentist office is actually the dentist. This may have stemmed from my childhood dentist who was an unapologetic Tarheels’ fan. I back the orange and blue of UVA, so our differences reached farther than my brushing habits. However my main problem with the DDS coalition is that they want to poke around in your mouth. The tools of their trade are a twisted array of metal picks and drills. The typical exam tray looks like what Arnold Schwarzenegger was tortured with in True Lies. There is something fundamentally wrong with anyone who wants to scrape plaque and tartar out of tooth crevices for a living.
That being said, I would rate my experience yesterday as not too unpleasant. The receptionist was extremely friendly. The paperwork was quick. I didn’t have to wait at all. My x-rays took a couple minutes and then my actual dentist did the cleaning. She was a fellow east coast transplant and we had some common stomping grounds near Washington, D.C. She kept it light. We chatted about my job. It was rather nice until she strapped on the mask and went to work. What came next was my fault, not hers. Although I said it was two years since my last cleaning it was actually more like four. What? I hate the dentist. She picked, scraped, polished and shined the bejesus out of my teeth. I’ve been running my tongue over them all morning.
I also found out that as an adult you don’t have to have the fluoride treatment. You know, that tray of goo you bite down on for twelve minutes with the suction tube jammed in between? Anyway, I was done. Less than an hour, relatively painless. I was halfway out of the chair when she said, “Now let’s take a look at those x-rays.” Damn. I’d forgotten about the minor tooth pain that spurred the visit. Sure enough, it was a cavity. And it had a brother. Both of the drill and fill persuasion. Just my lucky day. It’s a good thing my first visit to the dentist office of the second George W. administration wasn’t as dreadful as I thought because as it turns out, I get to go back in two weeks.
