Random thoughts while undergoing my semi-annual Dental Exam / Cleaning / Prophylaxis:
Prophylaxis sounds vaguely obscene. With a name like that, it should be a fun "forbidden fruit" sort of thing rather than an ordeal.
What the hell do I look at while the Hygienist is poking around my mouth? I can't look at her. That would make me some sort of pervert. The acoustical ceiling tile gets really boring after a while. Some day, progressive dentists will have DVDs projected on the ceiling to keep patients calm much like parents have DVD screens in the back of the family minivan to keep the little ones occupied during long trips.
My sinuses are draining and clogging my airway. I'm going to suffocate here on the dentist's chair! At my funeral, they will all say, "The Organ Donor Bank refused his corneas and kidneys, but they took his bicuspids. He gave the gift of chewing to some poor soul in West Virginia."
If that modern ultrasonic tartar-bashing thingie that the Hygienist just used is so great, why is she scraping away on my teeth with that stainless steel pick anyway? Is she scraping away good tooth enamel so that I will have cavities there next time? Not that I'm paranoid, but it's an ADA plot. All the dentists do it.
Where does my tongue go now? Don't stab it with that pick! Just tell me, I'll do anything you say.
Why does that spit suction thingie hang over my front teeth when my head is tilted back and all my saliva is draining back toward my throat (and, by the way, choking me). Liquids flow downhill, or didn't they teach you that in Dental School?
In the words of Kramer, "I'm a raving anti-Dentite."
It's all over, you say? Damn, my mouth feels good. See you in six months!
No comments:
Post a Comment