I went back to the dentist today. And I still owe you a story from my last dental dally, the day My Little Pony fractured his fetlock. I feel like I stumbled down a rabbit hole and was guest of honor at some freakish tea party.
My regular dentist, the kid dentist, was booked up, apparently, because I got the Old Man. Not the Seinfeld Old Man, who asked Jerry, "Don't you wanna change my diaper?" This is the old guy in the practice. The very first time I was there, and he was working on me, he had to leave because they thought he was having a heart attack. I'm not that bad a patient. They don't have to strap me down. Anyhoo, that's how I got the kid dentist. (The dentist for kids, not a Doogie Howser bicuspid prodigy). And I've had him ever since. Until last time.
The Old Man appears to be on the edge of senility. So close to the abyss that when he moves, pebbles cascade over the side. Last time, at least I had my sweet, sweet...nitrous. Fooled you! Thought I was going to say 'Histinex', didn't you. That's OK. I'm a merry prankster. Not the Ken Kesey kind. The old man was full of non-sequiturs that first time. His assistant would be talking about pieces of stuff they were going to put in my mouth, and he would spout out, "I love fish."
What do you mean, Dr. Old Man?
Fish. I love a good fish fry. I wonder if those guys caught anything.
What guys?
You know. What's his name and his buddy. They went down south to do some fishing. To that place.
While he was discussing what a great fish fry his wife could throw, the assistant would talk him back into the moment. But it wouldn't last for long.
Are you ready for the quick-set, Doctor?
Julie and them really treat us right when we go over there.
Where's that?
The license office. I've never had a problem since she started there.
I have all kinds of problems where I go.
She used to work here, you know. Did you know her?
Yes, she was a true professional. She left right after I got here.
She was the kind that was always making lists.
She was very organized.
Julie made a list of her lists.
I'm sure you were sorry to see her go.
If she had one fault, it was always making too many lists.
She was good.
Oh, I would hire her again in a minute. That's what employers ask, you know, in references. I can't tell someone that a worker did a bad job. That's illegal. But they always ask that one question. "Would you hire her again?" In a heartbeat. Would you mix me up some quick-set?
I already did, Doctor.
We've had a lot of girls leave here and go to work for the license office. It's a patronage job, you know. It depends on who holds office. Do we have any quick-set?
It's right here, Doctor.
You read my mind.
Whew. I was getting dizzy. And not from the nitrous. He let the assistant do most of the procedure, once he had drilled away the remainder of my tooth to make a fake one. I didn't really mind the old switcheroo.
Today was the same thing, different assistant.
Are you going to Donna's party?
No. Is it tonight?
No. It's this weekend. I was supposed to bring something down to tell you all, but I forgot.
Is it a costume party?
No. Donna said she would throw everyone a party, once she lost 100 pounds.
Oh. Where is it?
At some restaurant. She says she still has 50 more to go. I don't know about that. You know, Sally's fella owns a big bread company, like St. Louis Bread Company, only they don't have as much bread.
Oh. Her boyfriend?
No. It's some other kind of living arrangement. I know Sally. She's not like that.
I love home-made bread with jelly.
They have a honey-wheat bread that's really good.
Are you bringing some?
You bet. Did you know Harrah's is being bought out?
All of them? Like a take-over?
Yes. It's a multi-billion dollar deal.
Do you ever watch Harrah's Lucky Break?
No. What's that?
It's kind of karaoke-ish.
(Patient walks by) Is that on Saturday night, with that Black man, B.J. the DJ?
Yeah. That's it.
He works at our school. He's in charge of entertainment for the district.
Heh, heh. B.J.
They sing, and the judges rate them or blow the horn.
Like the Gong Show? You know, that was Dr. Main Dentist's favorite show.
I didn't know that.
And so on. I finally got my crown, in spite of all the small talk. And without my beloved nitrous. My face is swelled up like it did two weeks ago. It is not quite as painful right now, but last time it didn't start until bedtime.
I hate going to the dentist. Especially the mad-as-a-hatter one.
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4 comments:
Ouch, hate the dentist!! LOl at the nitrous :)
I love fish.
But not as much as I love nitrous.
One of the several dentists who I saw only ONCE in my quest to find The One was an old senile guy who could never find anything. He kept fumbling around in the drawers for various tools only to turn around and find that the assistant was sitting there holding it for him, as she had been. He also gave me three shots of novocaine right off the bat because I have strawberry blonde hair, and he was convinced that my Irish ancestry was a sure sign that it would take at least 3 shots to numb me.
Cazzie,
Everything goes better with a little nitrous.
Meanie,
That's an easy decision for me. Nitrous. Fish is for the birds.
Dr. Old Man gave me two shots. I felt every drop of that stuff go in. You see, he doddered so slowly that the numbing stuff from that wooden one-ended Q-Tip thingy wore off before he made it to my cubicle.
I don't have the blond hair, but I have my red-headed mama's freckly fair skin. I usually have a pretty high pain tolerance, what with the undrugged childbirth X 2, and the gallstone attack that had the doctor asking, "How could you walk in? Didn't they give you something at the other hospital for the pain?" I'm a medicinal freak, I am. But I've gotta have the nitrous for the anxiety that makes me want to jump out of the chair and run screaming from the office. Perhaps to a nice fish fry or license office.
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