Monday, November 1, 2010

Where the Hell are my Earphones????

For the past couple of weeks, I've been trying to find the earphones for my iPod.  Not a really big deal...except that it is right now.  The situation is FUBAR at the moment.  If you don't know what FUBAR means, check your urban dictionary or ask a military person.  It is not a good thing.

Which brings me to the reason I am panicking over losing my earphones.  I have to go to the dentist this afternoon.

Connection please?

I have serious dental phobia.  About once every three or four years, I decide it might be a good idea to go get my teeth cleaned.  Or I sometimes call and make an appointment when, say, I am flossing and half of one of my molars goes flying across the bathroom.  Yes, that really happened.

The tooth in question had fractured about 200 ways (okay, really it was four, but it looked like it was 200 on the x-ray to my non-trained eye).  I needed another crown.  Which meant drilling.  Which meant it doesn't really hurt, never mind, I can live with it.....well, maybe not.  Just don't say root canal or you will see the back of my ass as I fly out the door.

When I was growing up, for some stupid reason I've now forgotten (laziness maybe?), I decided that brushing my teeth was not really anything relevant to me which, of course, led to the inevitable cavities.  In pretty much every single tooth.  My mother was religious about having my brother and me go to the dentist every six months and every six months they would find one or two more holes in my teeth.  Because I was "needle phobic," my mother, in a creative attempt to help me out, told the dentist to use laughing gas instead of novacaine to fill my cavities.  Laughing gas is a pretty amazing thing, but it doesn't mean you can't feel it if someone hits you in a sensitive place.  Like, say, a hole in your tooth where there is a nerve ending.  It just means you're too stoned to move out of the way.  And yes, Mom, if you are reading this, I know you don't remember it this way, but I promise you don't forget what it feels like when a drill bit enters a hole in your mouth to enlarge said hole to put in a filling.  I am not blaming you.  You never would have done it that way if you knew.

What I got out of the whole dental experience growing up was that (a) it's a really good idea to brush and floss your teeth every day and (b) I probably don't need a dentist anyway because I brush and floss my teeth every day.  Which leads to the occasional emergency visit....leading to today's scheduled cleaning.  Because really, I am only going to have this one set of teeth.  Isn't it probably a good idea to have a professional in there every once in awhile so I don't end up gumming my food in the inevitable nursing home my children are going to throw me into because of all the years of intense therapy they'll have been through because they are my children?

I made the appointment for the cleaning after the whole molar fiasco earlier this year because I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I had actually been to the dentist.  I also discovered that if you use your iPod while they're working on your mouth, it can provide a great distraction.  I managed to get through the new crown by listening to the mix I made for when I clean the house.  You know, music for those unpleasant times in your life.  I actually did not wet my pants, faint, or cry when he drilled the holes.  I had found a way to make the dentist a little less unpleasant - a little.  And yes, I let him use lots of novacaine.  I was still drooling several hours later.

This afternoon, I go for my triennial cleaning appointment.  When I got dressed this morning, for some reason, I put on all black and Justin asked me if I was celebrating Dia de la Meurte (or Day of the Dead to those of you who didn't take Spanish in high school).  Nope.  Dental appointment.  They have discovered a new way to clean teeth (because, really, isn't every dentist looking for another way to torture you?) by using an intense stream of water that blasts away plaque and actually gets up under the gum line, leaving your poor mouth feeling severely abused for several days afterward.  Even though I've been brushing and flossing daily, I anticipate this to be an uncomfortable event.  Especially since I don't do it often enough.  Hence, the need for my iPod. 

I am attempting to not pass on my dental phobia to my kids.  They're not stupid, so I'm trying really hard to hide the fact that I would seriously rather give birth a couple more times than hoist myself into that chair.  I'm not a very good actress and I get the idea that the older two are seeing right through me.  Jamie has taken to asking me if I'm all right when we have to go to his orthodontist appointments.

Our dentist is a very nice guy.  I keep asking myself why such a nice guy would choose to be a dentist, a profession which, by definition, means that people really don't want to see you very often.  Or rather, I ask myself that question on the very rare occasions when I actually see him, which is the once a year I have decided the kids have to go to the dentist.  Or when huge chunks of my teeth start flying across the room.

Again, where the hell are my earphones??????

1 comment:

  1. I hope you’re doing a good job in pretending you’re not afraid of the dentist for the sake of your kids. You definitely wouldn't want to pass on that phobia to your children. Thank goodness you have a very nice family dentist, so that isn't likely going to happen.

    Bettye Primm @ Back Mountain Dental

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