We went to the dentist last week. We’re still getting over it. Yes, I am one more in the mass number of people who hate/loathe/are tempted to put off (read: skip) their routine cleanings. I’m still all nerves about the ordeal and I’ve had almost a week to recover. On top of the typical scraping and scratching and poking and vicious vibrations, the cracked lips, the jaw tension and tension induced migraine that all comes with the procedure of professional mouth cleaning, they also gave me the added bonus of a nasty cold and sore throat I was sure would turn into strep if I made one mistake (read: did not follow their instructions to floss 5,000 times a day and after each meal, including snacks, like gum.) You would think that a regular, normal, compassionate human being would not want a profession of making someone elses morning so cruelly dreadful. I mean, it’s kind of a risky profession when almost every human being would rather the alternative of letting their teeth fall out instead of having to worry about the blood bath their mouth is about to undergo.
Anyway, after they did whatever horrible thing they do inside mouth caverns, they told me in big, large, medical jargon that my mouth was a diseased black hole. I should note that I did not, and do not have any cavities. I’m just saying, 24 years without cavities deserves some recognition, like a party, or my picture on their wall of no-cavity-mouth fame, right? But no. I was accused of not wearing my retainer, which in my defense I never pretended like I wore it, and invasive pictures of my gums were then flashed before my eyes and I was told shame on you Meg. Shame. And I walked out feeling terrible about my life’s non-flossing ways and how I was told if I even wanted a remote chance of keeping the remaining teeth I had (read: that would be all of them) then I needed to be an avid, aggressive flosser and to never eat a single thing again to protect the careful scrape job just preformed on my pie hole. Oh yes, and I needed some fancy, vibrating tooth brush because my arms (which are super strong and built from lugging my 24-pound toddler baby around) were just too weak to use a manual, normal, grounded person’s toothbrush.