I have never been afraid of the dentist.* That is until this lovely experience. Why don’t I just change offices you ask? Why, that would be too easy! Instead I hid from the fearless hygienist for a year and a half, cowering in a fetal position in the bathtub until I was forced to go back for a cleaning since the end of 2007 also marks the end of all my health insurance and a full-time job.
So here’s what went down:
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: Sit down!
Me: Y-y-y-yes, ma’am.
(beat)
Me, taking a big breath of courage and cringing, remembering my last experience: Um…can I please ask to have a light cleaning? I think I have sensitive gums or something. (Code for, actually, my gums are fine, but I distinctly remember you giving the top of my mouth repeated, stabbing acupuncture with your little needle equipment because you were dancing to the radio blasting in the room as you scraped).
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: Wait just a minute. Let me look at your chart.
(beat, followed by furrowing of the brow)
Oh, it’s YOU. I remember you! I remember we had a lot of problems, didn’t we? Because you REFUSED to cooperate. Yes, lots and lots of problems here with your behavior.
Me, lower lip trembling and wondering if I can simultaneously get her in a sleeper hold and grab my chart, fleeing for the border, never to be seen again: I’m sorry. I’ll be good this time! I promise!
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: You said that I was hurting you! Why would you say that to me? Why? Why?
Me, looking at the ground: I don’t know. (Because you made me cry?)
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: Let’s not have a problem this time, okay? It doesn’t hurt!
The needle thing goes on. Good ole Stabby McStabs-A-Lot gets that familiar twinkle in her eye.
Cleaning commences with a whhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! (noise from her various torture devices).
Cleaning ends.
Me, smiling like a maniac through a mouthful of blood: Mmmmmm! Mmmmmm! Please ma’am, may I have another?
Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate, looking a little freaked out: Okay, time to put your coat on.
Me: Muah-hah-hah! Victory is mine!
--------------------
*And never had to be, I think I got my first and only cavity my senior year of college. What a dorky accomplishment.
So here’s what went down:
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: Sit down!
Me: Y-y-y-yes, ma’am.
(beat)
Me, taking a big breath of courage and cringing, remembering my last experience: Um…can I please ask to have a light cleaning? I think I have sensitive gums or something. (Code for, actually, my gums are fine, but I distinctly remember you giving the top of my mouth repeated, stabbing acupuncture with your little needle equipment because you were dancing to the radio blasting in the room as you scraped).
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: Wait just a minute. Let me look at your chart.
(beat, followed by furrowing of the brow)
Oh, it’s YOU. I remember you! I remember we had a lot of problems, didn’t we? Because you REFUSED to cooperate. Yes, lots and lots of problems here with your behavior.
Me, lower lip trembling and wondering if I can simultaneously get her in a sleeper hold and grab my chart, fleeing for the border, never to be seen again: I’m sorry. I’ll be good this time! I promise!
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: You said that I was hurting you! Why would you say that to me? Why? Why?
Me, looking at the ground: I don’t know. (Because you made me cry?)
Small Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate: Let’s not have a problem this time, okay? It doesn’t hurt!
The needle thing goes on. Good ole Stabby McStabs-A-Lot gets that familiar twinkle in her eye.
Cleaning commences with a whhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! (noise from her various torture devices).
Cleaning ends.
Me, smiling like a maniac through a mouthful of blood: Mmmmmm! Mmmmmm! Please ma’am, may I have another?
Jamaican woman who might be the devil incarnate, looking a little freaked out: Okay, time to put your coat on.
Me: Muah-hah-hah! Victory is mine!
--------------------
*And never had to be, I think I got my first and only cavity my senior year of college. What a dorky accomplishment.
4 comments:
ouch!
at least you scared her back!
You should find another dentist. Where I go, the hygienist is hot and Russian. I like it when she cleans my teeth (which is not intended to be any kind of pervy double entendre).
there's pretty much nothing worse than the dentist.
...except a dentist with no sensitivity training.
Ugh, sounds awful.
But also kind of hilarious...
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