Yo,
So, I just walked out of my dentist’s office… Before they finished.
Unfocussed Assessments…
I live in a new city and unfortunately that means I needed a new dentist. I didn’t want a new dentist, I liked the old guy. The old guy had a Pacman machine in the waiting room.
Before I even went, there was 20 minutes of sign-up crap online and I had to create my 10 thousandth online account with some stupid password that I have 0% chance of remembering every 6 months.
After a mad scramble to get out of the house, and realizing my wife left about a drop of gasoline in the car, I somehow got there perfectly on time. I checked in and went to talk to the lady at the counter. She verified my appointment then asked if I wanted fluoride for $20 extra.
“No fluoride please,” I replied.
She then told me I need to sign for is the cleaning and x rays.
“No x rays please,” I said.
“Excuse me?” she replied.
“No x rays, I got them last time.”
“It is common practice here to take x rays on every visit.” She told me.
“No thank you,” I said.
(Deep sigh) “Okay I suppose we can wait until your next visit,” she said.
“I suppose we can,” I thought confidently.
“Oookay,” she said, punching some buttons on her computer with the monitor facing away from me, “Please sign.”
I looked down and there is a tiny little screen that only fits my signature with one of those stupid fake electronic pens.
“What am I signing for?”
“The dental cleaning.”
“But where are the documents?” I asked.
“Which documents?” She replied.
“I’d rather not sign some little screen without reading what I am signing for.”
“Well sir, it really isn’t a big deal, it just verifies that you are here for a cleaning,” she informed me.
“That all sounds excellent, I would like to read it.”
“My monitor doesn’t turn around sir.”
“Well then what do you recommend?”
(Deep sigh as she took her time thinking through options to end this unanticipated impasse.)
“I suppose I can print it for you,” she said.
“I suppose that sounds excellent… and I really appreciate you taking the time to do so,” I replied.
(Deep sigh – followed by a protracted and exaggerated disembark from her chair.)
Hilariously the printer was out of ink.
(Deep sigh – followed by her rummaging around opening and closing drawers and cabinets.)
I waited very patiently and thoroughly amused.
“Sir, the printer is out of ink,” she told me.
“Well what do you suppose we do?” I replied.
“You could sign and we can get you into your appointment.”
“Ma’am I don’t think it is the slightest bit unreasonable to request access to a document that I am being asked to sign… do you?”
(Deep sigh)
“No, I suppose it isn’t.”
She then stared at me. There was no chance I was going to be the next person to speak here. The tension was palpable. The teenaged girl and her mom behind me had actually put their phones down in an attempt to listen.
“I suppose you could come around the corner and look at my screen,” she said.
“I suppose that I could,” I replied as I began my walk around to her desk area.
Before she had a chance to give me any instructions I confidently plopped down onto her chair, took control of her mouse and began to review the documents.
“Hmmm, yes… yes. Mmmhmm. Yes. Yes. These all seem to be in order,” I said as I could feel her staring daggers at me.
“Well, ma’am I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience that this may have caused you, but I certainly appreciate you obliging my desire to review these documents before signing,” I told her.
“You’re welcome, please have a seat, someone will be right with you.”
Now here’s the thing. This entire situation could have been avoided if they practiced common courtesy and provided me with a means to review a document I was to sign.
I tried to be polite. I certainly knew that I was inconveniencing her and that my behaviour (I am going to write it the British way from now on) was likely very uncommon.
Whatever.
Finally, a lady came and got me and whisked me down the hallway.
My Poor Mouth
She announced herself as my mouth cleaner or whatever they are called.
She was very polite and engaged in small talk with me. She announced herself from Florida and immediately began telling me about her family and her “crazy ex.”
Then she got into my mouth.
After a couple of aggressive scrapes she confidently announced that I have gingivitis.
This caused a couple of reactions from me:
“No I don’t,” was my first thought….
“You do.”
My second reaction is that I am pretty sure everyone has gingivitis. I floss twice a week and brush twice a day. F this gingivitis BS. My old dentist said my teeth are awesome and I don’t do anything different. If I have gingivitis… All of you SOB’s have it too.
“Oh,” I muffled back to her as both of her hands were in my mouth.
“I don’t see any bone loss but you need to floss more.”
“Ok,” I muffled back to her.
She went and got some other tool.
Then she began to torture me.
Fuck!ng straight up tortured my d!ck off.
I mean, I don’t mind an aggressive scraping but she went deep man. Waaay too deep.
She was using this scraping water pick… aww f*ck. It hurts me right now typing this.
Wasn’t even using it on my teeth or gums.
She was scraping my nerves.
Straight nerves, man.
I mean, she was going deep down way past where the gums end. Just jamming this horror device into the bowls of my gums to where only my sensitive tooth nerves live… and was scraping the hell out of them.
“F*ckin’ A lady,” I wanted to say… “I don’t think you are supposed to try and clean my freaking nerves.”
Just focus on my teeth you bitch.
I couldn’t believe it.
Just couldn’t F’ing believe it.
“Yeah you are bleeding,” she told me.
“NO S LADY!” I thought.
I tried to get to my happy place out on some make believe beach that I couldn’t completely manifest because of the awful sounds this device was generating.
“You aren’t flossing enough,” she half shouted over the device.
I pictured her as a welder with one of those thermoplastic face shields, head down, diligently working on my poor, sensitive mouth… sparks flying everywhere.
This was highly traumatic because I had to have some gum grafts a few years ago the same week as my ACL surgery. I had receding gums so they literally cut a chunk out of the roof of my mouth and grafted it behind my lower front teeth.
I could feel this lady personally receding all of my gums again with this terrible tool of destruction.
She stopped for a second and handed me a mirror.
“See all that blood?” she asked.
My mouth looked like someone had sharpened all of the tines on a metal rake and just raked the holy hell out of my poor mouth.
There was blood everywhere.
I looked away.
“You gotta get deep below the gums when you floss,” she informed me.
“Well now,” I thought… that just doesn’t sound right at all.”
“Here,” she said as she reached onto her little cart… “I’ll show you… hold up that mirror.”
She then took a piece of floss and what can only be described as a cartoonish maneuver, proceeded to sharply pull a fucking piece of string so far below my lower gums that it made my chin drop down into my chest.
“You gotta floss deep below the gums like this,” she said.
“You gotta be kidding me!!!” I thought.
I mean I was a little shit head when I was a kid, and I gave that lady at the front desk a hard time, and maybe I am not perfect…. But this was some serious violence being perpetrated on me that I’m not sure was deserved.
She then started trying to sell me on some insane – and I swear I’m not making this up –
“Laser gum treatment.”
She was telling me all about this, “Laser gum treatment.”
Made it sound like it would cure my whole freaking body.
“What do you think?” She asked after her sales pitch.
“Oh,” I thought to myself in a voice demonstrating a completely open mind at this proposed, alternative healing therapy…
“Why don’t you suck my d!ck instead?”
“I um… I’m going to have to research that one.” I told her.
In a total fog, she finished everything and polished my gum nerves. She then went to get the dentist.
The Dentist
My mouth was vibrating. My mouth was on fire. My mouth didn’t know how to emotionally process what had just occurred.
The dentist came in and asked how my cleaning went.
“Painful,” I told him.
This answer seemed to surprise him.
He then did his check up and told me I needed to floss more. He asked if I wanted the… “Laser gum treatment.”
“No, I do not.” I told him.
“Ok, you should strongly consider it. Your attendant will be back with your fluoride treatment.”
Then the dentist left.
I was alone.
Then I laid back for a minute and took a few deep breaths. I tried to calm down.
Just… Bail?
Then in a sudden wave of fury/enlightenment…. I jumped out of my chair.
“F*CK… THIS… SH!T,” I thought.
I started walking down the halls without even considering or caring about anything this unprecedented action of mine would cause.
I rounded the corner and mercifully came face to face with a different front desk lady.
“Hey um… my wife, uh… I gotta go right now.”
“Oh she said,” super cheerfully.
“Do I need to pay or anything?” I asked.
“Nope! You are all good to go!”
I rounded the corner, opened the door, and sprinted to my car.
My grandfather was a dentist before he passed away about 25 years ago.
After he retired from his practice he got a job at a prison nearby.
He used to tell us that it wasn’t so much dentistry as it was, “yanking out sore teeth.”
I don’t know how all this ties together, but I am sure it somehow does.
F*cking “Laser gum treatment.”
Quackenbush