Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Dental Madness
I went to the dentist yesterday. Because the prospect of having someone poke me in the gums with pointy things and lecture me about flossing was somehow insufficient to motivate me to figure out my new insurance, I hadn't been in over a year. This, as it turns out, did not really improve the experience. I am now to be subjected to a root canal in mid-December, I think primarily as punishment for my morally inexcusable delay. Don't worry, though, the receptionist told me that "she's had like six of them" and "they don't hurt at all," to the extent that she "sometimes falls asleep" mid canal. At least she stopped short of joking that it was "just like sex with her husband."
Of course, the lady who cleaned my teeth had to tell me all about her entire life, despite the fact that my contribution to the conversation was "urg-bler" and similar witticisms. Here are the topics we covered while I had about sixteen pounds of dental instruments in my mouth:
-- her Thanksgiving plans
-- how she hates cooking
-- how she hates her family
-- how she hates sports
-- how she hates traveling
-- what it's like for her to be from downstate
-- why she went to dental school in Chicago
-- where she likes to eat in Chicago
-- how she's hungry right now
-- how I can probably hear her stomach growling
And that was just the first five minutes. The best part was that every time I tried to participate in some way, despite the obvious impediments, she looked annoyed and asked me not to move. Meanwhile, she let me drool all over my neck.
I can't wait for mid December.
I went to the dentist yesterday. Because the prospect of having someone poke me in the gums with pointy things and lecture me about flossing was somehow insufficient to motivate me to figure out my new insurance, I hadn't been in over a year. This, as it turns out, did not really improve the experience. I am now to be subjected to a root canal in mid-December, I think primarily as punishment for my morally inexcusable delay. Don't worry, though, the receptionist told me that "she's had like six of them" and "they don't hurt at all," to the extent that she "sometimes falls asleep" mid canal. At least she stopped short of joking that it was "just like sex with her husband."
Of course, the lady who cleaned my teeth had to tell me all about her entire life, despite the fact that my contribution to the conversation was "urg-bler" and similar witticisms. Here are the topics we covered while I had about sixteen pounds of dental instruments in my mouth:
-- her Thanksgiving plans
-- how she hates cooking
-- how she hates her family
-- how she hates sports
-- how she hates traveling
-- what it's like for her to be from downstate
-- why she went to dental school in Chicago
-- where she likes to eat in Chicago
-- how she's hungry right now
-- how I can probably hear her stomach growling
And that was just the first five minutes. The best part was that every time I tried to participate in some way, despite the obvious impediments, she looked annoyed and asked me not to move. Meanwhile, she let me drool all over my neck.
I can't wait for mid December.
