Monday, June 13, 2011

The Dentist: A Sweet Escape Into Pain

Morning Readers,

    To get you up to speed, I don't look like a hill billy. But if I'd chosen to, forgoing the dentist would've taken my overall aesthetic appeal from a seven to a three...perhaps a five to a two. But I wasn't going to skip it. A trip to the tooth doctor meant an hour all to myself.... an hour without kids. You think that's sad? I wore my best jeans, combed my hair (ok, I sort of  stabbed at it with my fingers, braided it and smoothed down the wispy parts around my ears), and put on my Sunday deodorant. As luck would have it, I'd completely forgotten how horrifying having a tooth filled is..


     "Paige...Kellerman...eleven o'clock?"

     Worried they'd forgotten their promise to hide me from my kids for a full hour, I put extra emphasis on "eleven". Politely ignoring the fact I was clearly insane or thought she didn't speak English, the receptionist motioned for me to take a seat. I responded, by sprinting so hard, I hit the wall next to the magazine rack, and slid onto the grey, vinyl seat, laughing crazily.
Then, I plotted. What would I DO for an entire hour, uninterrupted? The possibilities were endless. By the time the assistant called my name and set me in the chair, I'd decided the next sixty minutes would  consist of:

a.) Meal-planning for the next eight weeks
b.) Learning The Start Spangled Banner, backwards
c.) Solving World Peace
d.) Figuring out how keep another Kardashian-based show off the air, thereby preventing the space-time continuum from ripping and sending us all into a dark place where words such as "Ridic" are used on a daily basis...

     World peace seeming the simplest, I'd begun a thoughtful foray into a world-wide currency system based exclusively on the mollusk trade, when the dentist came in and brandished a needle at me. I suddenly felt the world needed to work out its own problems.

     "Yeben."

     The dentist looked at me.

     "Trubbel ibin Yeben."

     Above me, a little flat screen had run the headline "Trouble in Yemen." Shortly after the sent of burnt enamel and  wasted dreams had filled my nasal passages, the only thing keeping me from screaming was focusing on the TV mounted to the ceiling. Thrusting my unpainted toe at the screen, I tried to distract him again.

     "Yeben lubbuks bab. Dubben ibit?"

      He responded by stabbing my gum with a medieval spear I was sure I'd heard History Chanel describe as "The Dragon Slayer".

     "Heh Heh..Ah wub jud kibbing.."

     Waiving good bye to the hour I was supposed to be enjoying, I decided, instead, to quit talking, route my tears directly to my stomach, and focus my pain on how Anderson Cooper pulled-off premature grey so well. Thirty-minutes-later, I was the proud owner of eight pounds of cement and more pain on my right side than NASA wastes money.
     Gums aflame, subtly aware of the taste of burnt tin can, I climbed behind the wheel and drove home. So, what did I learn?....Hmm. Well, kids are a pain in the butt, but not as painful as a needle in the gum. On the other hand, children poking you in the gum, with needles, may deserve a separate category. Let's all hope I never need to post on that..

Until Next Time Readers!