On Friday I had to go to the dentist. I really like my dentist, I’ve been going there for 30 years but I dislike people working on my mouth with such a passion, I’d rather give birth. I have a few sensitive teeth and when they get touched with that evil grim reaper pick, I hit the roof. That problem may be solved; the hygienist used the high powered water pick. The only problem with that is, the top of my mouth is ticklish and every time she tried to clean my top teeth I ended up splashing water on my face, itching my gums. Oh well, at least it didn’t hurt.
That’s the good news. The bad news, I have a cavity. I could not believe it. I do everything in my power to avoid anything that may result in Novocain. I have a hate, hate relationship with it. I need copious amounts of it in order for them to do any work in my mouth.
It took nine shots of the stuff in order for them to pull a tooth. When I broke a tooth (on a piece of pizza) it took four shots in order to repair the tooth. I need so much, when I leave my entire face is numb for hours and I always end up biting my tongue or the inside of my mouth, which just prolongs the agony of haven just traumatized my mouth.
I take very good care of my teeth, for this very reason. You know why I have a cavity? Not flossing. If you previously recall in my reasons for wanting my own bathroom, one of them was a dental floss problem. Well, thank you kids.
I left the office swearing like Ralphie’s dad trying to fix the furnace. When I told my mom later that day, she had the nerve to blame my age (I’m not that old). No, I blame dental floss thieves. When I told my sister, with a justified look of shock and surprise, gasped a loud, “NOOOO!!!” (She came and got me at the dentist after the 9 shots of Novocain, she’s witnessed the damage.) My mom asked where the cavity was, I don’t know. Once I was told I had one, I blocked everything else out, they’re lucky I even remembered to right down the dreaded filling appointment.