I look forward to her chair like Ted Bundy must have looked forward to Old Sparky.
But, I have to say, my dentist is great. We have interesting conversations.
She: I just got back from a meeting of the Association of Forensic Dentists. Did you know I'm a member?
Me: I've always wondered, when you're trying to identify a body, do you to have to examine the teeth while they're still inside the victim's skull, or do the cops send you a tooth and ask you to "analyze this?"
She (picking up one of those nutpicker thingies): Open wide. No, I have to examine the victim's mouth, like I'm examining yours. Not that wide. It's gross sometimes. Turn toward me. Especially if the corpse is in an advanced state of decomposition. Perfect, stay just like that. Did you read about that decapitated body they found in the Everglades last month?
Me: Shush mouche schmusgen. Mish vasch.
She: Do you like true crime books?
Me: Mos vorch wersh. Auf hosen schmalz.
She: They wrote a CSI Miami episode about a case I worked on. Do you watch that show?
I don't know how the hell dentists expect you to answer questions when their hands are stuffed down your throat, but I've yet to meet one who didn't ask more of them than a three-year-old.
Dentists scare me shitless. When I was kid I would return from the pediatric dentist my parents sent me to, crying about the pain he had inflicted. They thought I was being dramatic until the state board of dental examiners, responding to dozens of complaints from parents who believed their children, conducted an investigation and declared the old man legally blind. Seeing Laurence Olivier torture Dustin Hoffman with a drill in Marathon Man further reinforced my aversion to the chair. As a result, I tend to put off dental work.
Thirty-some years ago a dentist recommended pulling my wisdom teeth. I finally had them extracted last year. At 59. Losing those teeth completely changed the shape of my face. I had chubby cheeks. Now I look like I'm from Appalachia.
Yesterday's check-up went fine and -- an unexpected bonus -- I learned a lot about forensic dentistry.
"Do you want to go ahead and book your next check-up?" the dentist asked.
"No," I replied. "At my age I'm not making appointments that far into the future."
"OK," she said. "Call if you're around in six months."
I said I would.
I just hope that next time we meet, I'm reclining in her chair, not lying on a slab in some morgue.
Remember Bill Cosby doing a skit about a trip to the dentist's office? I nearly wet myself laughing every time I see that!
ReplyDeleteActually, no. I'm 60. I don't remember what happened yesterday.
DeleteI need to share, when I was about 13 I would have jumped at the chance to go to the dentist rather then the girly doctor. Over the years that has completly changed. Now at 45 I have beautiful teeth because they are all fake (besides 2 eye teeth that hold the beauties in place) now when I go for a cleaning I bitch because they try and charge me for cleaning for a full mouth of teeth when actually they are just cleaning 2 ! And what up with them trying to have a conversation with you while they have sharp, painful instruments in your mouth! To much - LMFAO
ReplyDeleteWhat was your mother taking you to the girly doctor for at 13? Birth control pills?
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