So. All of that flossing I’ve been doing? Really makes no difference whatsoever in the misery level of my dental appointments, as I experienced this morning at 8:00. (Incidentally, I may have discovered the worst possible way to begin a day and I now know that the correct response to “How about first thing in the morning?” is to politely and calmly ask the receptionist if she’s lost her mind.) Leah the Singing Hygienist said it made HER feel better that I was flossing, which I suppose counts for something, but it certainly didn’t make ME feel better, so I feel kind of like I’ve been lied to, and I’m tempted to give up on the whole flossing palaver altogether, except that it was kind of nice to skip the whole condescending flossing lecture and just get right into the painful poking this morning, and besides, now it’s a habit and a somewhat virtuous one at that, and it makes me feel kind of smug every time I do it. (See also: taking a multivitamin, wearing SPF 45 when I’m out in the sun for longer than 10 minutes.)
There’s an episode of The Simpsons when Homer says that the best part of the week is on Sunday morning right when church is over, because then it’s the longest possible time until there is church AGAIN, and I kind of feel that way every time I leave the dentist, except also sort of queasy and desperate to get home and wash the dentist stink off under a very long, very hot shower. It’s a little over 5 months until I go back, which I believe is PLENTY of time for someone to find a way to use nanoparticles to make dental cleanings obsolete.
My thoughts exactly! We can fly to the moon and manipulate genes, but we can’t find a way to clean teeth that doesn’t involve pointy metal sticks??!!
If it makes you feel any better (and it probably doesn’t) my dentist makes me go every three months. 🙁
Hope your day gets better from here!!
I’m pretty sure I’d be going every 3 months if we had slightly better dental coverage. As it was, my hygienist suggested last week that I come a little more often and I had to inform her in no uncertain terms that I have no intention of paying any of my own hard-earned money to sit miserably in her chair.
I also told the receptionist on the way out that I didn’t want to be added to their email list because frankly I didn’t want to be reminded of their existence under any circumstances other than an imminent dental appointment.
I’m normally a very lovely person but I dissolve into a surly, weepy mess as soon as I walk through those doors. I assume I have a file a mile thick with some sort of specialized “Warning! High Maintenance!” sticker on the front.