September 13, 2016 by Heather
I had my teeth cleaned yesterday and in the process managed to spit water all over my own face due to a miscalculation of the lip-to-water-sucker-thing ratio. It was like Old Faithful. Spewed all over the right side of my face and down my neck, into my shirt.
I always feel so vulnerable and awkward at the dentist. I’ve had a good number of just downright bad experiences at the dentist’s office, mainly whenever I stray from my normal dentist for things like a root canal or something, so it makes sense that I go into it every time feeling a tad nervous and stupid.
Some thoughts I had yesterday while the precious dental assistant/hygienist was hovering over my face with her pretty eyelashes that I kept trying to not stare at directly:
I bet she’s seen some really nasty mouths. And had to put her hands in them, Lord bless.
What if my mouth is one of the nasty ones and she’s just telling me my “teeth are perfect” because she tells everyone that?
I wonder what would happen if I head-butted her right now.
I wonder what would happen if I maintained intense eye contact with her the whole time.
Please, just leave the plaque. This scraper tool is of satan.
I flossed for the first time in two months this morning. I wonder if she can tell. I bet she can.
I can’t believe I just sprayed water everywhere. I wish she had dabbed my face instead of wiping it vigorously with gauze. It took forever to cover up this PMS face this morning.
And why did I feel the need to cover it up more than usual? Probably because I knew her face would be two inches from mine. Maybe I should be more like Alicia Keys and not wear makeup. Nope.
Must control tongue. Must control tongue. Must control tongue.
Oh my gosh I just tongued the water sprayer. I wonder if there is a special class in Dental Assistant school about the tongue and its involuntary movements, for example tonguing the water sprayer. I bet there is. She’s not alarmed by my roaming mouth organ. Surely. Gosh I bet she thinks I’m trying to make out with her tools. Oh no.
I’m really holding onto the arm rests tightly. Better loosen my grip. I don’t want her to see my white knuckles and realize how nervous I am. Is this over yet. I wish I had the nitrous oxide. I wonder if I can get a tank of it to go. Or like a little bit in something like an asthma inhaler. Portable nitrous oxide. The next medicinal marijuana. I’d vote for it.