Playful, Pius or Remembered Stuff

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Thursday, August 6, 2009

It's Dentist Time!

I was doing just fine when we were lapsed on our dental insurance. Has it actually been 2 years since I sat in that chair? It seems like yesterday. They have new technology at the Dental Arts office. I't so cool that they just plunk this hard plastic domino with a cable in my mouth, buzz the xray and bing! The image appears on the computer screen. Okay, so maybe that's old stuff for you, but remember it's been 2 (maybe 3) years since I have been here.

Then the torture master pulls up a swivel chair, looks in my mouth and starts dictating to his lackey at his elbow. "Negative. Plague. Tartar. Gingivitis." he spouts like a submarine captain barking cryptic orders to his torpedo man. All the words are so very insulting and intimidating. Are they going to rip out all my teeth? What insidious plans are developing here? There is a code number and even though I know he is identifying one of my teeth, I don't know the code so I do not know the attack plans, even though I am hearing him myself.

I know whenever they are finished fixing my teeth, sometime during my final visit, he is going to tell me how to care for my teeth. Brush, mouthwash, floss, water pick. And he will talk down to me as though the teeth actually belonged to him and I have somehow violated a sacred trust by the sloppy way I have cared for them.

Okay, now I find out that my insurance is not good enough for the house specialist in root canals, and I need no less than four! So I am given a referral to another doctor a few miles down the road. This dentist happens to have an opening the next day, so let's get it over with.

More cool xrays and then consultation. Only this time I am assigned an associate, and it is a gorgeous young lady with mesmerizing grey eyes. She asks if I have had any pain in my teeth. I tell her that this tooth has been a little sensitive to hot and cold and even to sweets. So she takes her steel instrument and bangs on my tooth and then asks me if it hurts. Since that didn't really work well enough, she puts down the instrument and rubs the gums hard with her finger. "Yes," I say, "That's a little tender." She was successful. So we schedule that one to get drilled out tomorrow morning at 7:30.

But before I left the office I felt the first round of pain. They called my insurance carrier to see what my co-pay will be. Ouch! Was it that long ago that my entire dentist bill was less than that?!


  1. Dad, you meant to write, "plaque" I think. You wrote, "plague," as in Bubonic.

  2. You're right, Squirrel Master, but you know what?...I didn't spell it correctly and that was the word spell check gave me. I think I will leave it.