The Dentist

Let me go on record saying that all the dental care professionals who have worked on me are awesome. I love my regular dentist and the endodontist who roots my canals, or canals my roots, and the dental implant guy and anyone else I may have left out. They are wonderful people and deserve to be president.

BUT I STILL HATE THE DENTIST!!!

It goes back to Dr. Smith when I was a child. He hated kids, my mother said. Naturally, you might think the next question would be GEE WHIZ, MOM, WHY DID YOU TAKE US THERE? But I was such a dumfk I never asked. I wouldn't be surprised if Dr. Smith killed small animals on the premises, probably to practice on their teeth. He wielded the drill like a chainsaw. My mother said he was too cheap to hire a secretary and he'd ask the suckers in the waiting room to answer the phone if he was working on a patient. I have previously told the story of when, at age six, I had my first filling and spit out everything in my mouth at Dr. Smith (who never said there was a bowl to spit in). Man, I got him good and my mother also said that she and some unknown man in the waiting room cracked up laughing when they heard him yell at me.

There was a lot more sadism in the old days than people know about.

So anyways, my teeth never looked like this. Even though I brushed conscientiously as a child, every time I went to the dentist I had 7 or 14 cavities.

Mine looked more like this. By the time I was an adult, every tooth in my head had a filling in it.

Then I started with the root canals and the crowns and finally the implants.

I will finally have everything fixed when I am dead. Those viewing me in my casket will hopefully have something nice to say and not GOD, HOW MUCH DID SHE SPEND FOR ALL THAT? SHE COULD HAVE DRIVEN A MUCH NICER CAR.

The Dream is coming to an end, dear reader, only this weekend left, and I wonder who my students will be.

Maybe I will talk to them about dental hygiene.

A bientot

love,

becky