I’m supposed to go get my teeth cleaned twice a year. I don’t.
It’s nothing personal. I’ve always thought nothing is better than a good trip to the dentist, so nothing is what I usually do instead. It’s not that I’m afraid of dentists, but I have a considerable respect for the erosive power of dentistry bills, and no insurance. For most of my working years, I spent my available income paying down my mortgage. And I retired with a paid-for house and dental plaque. Also, apparently, healthy teeth and gums.
That’s what the dentist says. She is not a scold by any means, but several employees of the clinic managed to work into the conversation that I hadn’t been there in three years. Nevertheless, things seem to be in good enough shape. In fact, the dentist’s office is the only place I’m going to get any praise for my teeth, which are otherwise ghoulish.
Things have changed in three years. New tools, new protocols. No more big lead apron during x-rays. Evidently the equipment is more targeted now. Before, they used to swing a device at your face that looked like the nose cone to a rocket and blast the whole neighborhood with radiation. Also? The lead apron purportedly might interfere with the x-rays, necessitating more x-rays, although since my dentist never took the x-rays through my body from the floor level, we probably didn’t have that problem.
The cleaning protocol was new too. This time the hygienist started out by stabbing me repeatedly in the gums with a sharp stick to get my mouth’s attention. I inquired. She said she was checking the space between my gums and teeth—you don’t want too much. It was fine. My teeth weren’t loose at all, at least before she started.
Well of course they’re not loose. They’re jammed in there tighter ’n Lindsey Graham’s butt cheeks. Some of them are sideways. My plaque situation was not as bad as it might have been. A little worse on the left side. Did I spend less time brushing that side, the hygienist wanted to know?
Oh heck no, I said. I hardly brush at all. That’s the side I chew on. It’s the only place any of my teeth match up, and only two of them do. Basically I send my food to the left and wrestle it till it’s just small enough to clear my tonsils and send it straight down the hatch.
She didn’t use the old scrapey-hook as much. They’ve got a new enhanced vibrating scrapey-hook that’s easier on the hygienist and not quite as off-putting to the patient. It no longer feels as much like someone’s trying to incise hieroglyphics on my teeth. And with this new device, she proceeded to excavate a moat between my teeth and gums into which, I assume, we shall introduce special bacterial piranhas to protect the fortress.
Next up, she advances on me with three feet of dental floss wrapped around her fists, like a garrote. And for the fluoride treatment, she started rattling off all the usual candidates, orange, cinnamon, bubble-gum, so I hollered “MINT” to head her off at the pass, because Mint is the only correct answer to the fluoride treatment questions. And then she said Salted Caramel.
Really?
Oh hell. Worth a shot. Why not rub a Snickers bar over all this fresh toothage? Well. I’ll tell you why not. The body is not fooled. The body does not think it’s funny to suggest there’s ice cream coming in when there’s no ice cream coming in. Mint is the only correct answer.
Three years from now, I hope I’ll remember that.
I used to actually enjoy going to the dentist when he had a private practice, and his wife was the hygienist. They didn’t tell me that I MUST have X-rays every year, or use all these fancy implements on my teeth. I enjoyed chatting with them, and we were all on a hugging basis.
But he is older than I am, and probably wanted to cut back on the hours he worked, so he went over to “Big Tooth”. An enormous building with many dentists and hygienists. Lots of fancy equipment. X-rays every year, and that horrible thing that measures the space between your teeth and gums. I’m convinced that the device widens the space. I also think that unnecessary X-rays promote cancer. I no longer enjoy going to the dentist. No more “we’ll just keep an eye on it.” Now, it’s “this tooth has a crack in it, so it will need to be crowned. Otherwise it might break.” They seem concerned about what “might” happen. But then all that fancy equipment costs money, and they have to pay for it somehow.
You should switch to my dentist! She’s conservative–in all the RIGHT ways. And if she was raking in the big bucks she’d be retired by now.
My best friend was my dentist until she retired. Her motto was, “It’s your mouth and your money.” My new dentist is more of a “How much money can I find in your mouth?” guy.
Dave’s are full of gold, so that’s pretty literal.
Mine used to be, but most of my crowns were old enough that they needed to be replaced one at a time. Now they use porcelain so my teeth actually look better than the originals.
I’ve got gold too. I’m not really sure why. Why gold?
I did all the right things and probably paid for several dentists new cars over the years, but lost my teeth anyway. I have only four molars, one in each corner, one of which is a wisdom tooth and six lower front teeth. Everything else is plastic and sleeps in a cup of water overnight.
Keeping your teeth is entirely up to Fate and Genetics in my opinion.
“Sleeping in a cup of water overnight” sounds like a good euphemism for being offed.
I just deleted my dental history I had typed here. Now I’ll tell you the only periodontal joke I’ve ever heard: “The teeth look great, but the gums will have to come out.” Can’t recall who told me that. Wasn’t a periodontist. Or a dentist.
Sounds like a New Yorker cartoon!
I visited the dentist and dental hygienist yesterday. I too received the mint fluoride treatment, and was surprised to hear that salted caramel was available. No thanks. If it was chocolate peanut butter, then it’s a different story. And I still prefer the scraping tools to the electric thingee that sounds like mosquitoes in my mouth.
Mint all the way. Although I am a big fan of chocolate and peanut butter. And maple. Now I want ice cream again.
I went to the UK on a group tour last year and was quite shocked at the terrible teeth I saw, and I’m not talking about the gargoyles.
Aren’t they famous for that? I would fit right in.
I’ve been going to the same dentist for 34 years. He and I went to the same high school 4 years apart and his practice is in our home town so he’s always asking if I remember certain people, and I don’t, because I hated high school and am only in touch with people who became lifelong friends. We also share a love of folk music so he tells me about new groups or singers he’s discovered and then plays them for me on his machine that is right by the chair.
He and his hygienist know all my quirks, that I don’t want X-rays unless it’s been years since the last batch and then they still have to beg me to get them. I do go every 6 months though. I’m a rule-follower!