SOUL SAP

Conversations With A Dentist

I think it's been proven somewhere that going to the dentist ranks number one in people's fears, or at least extreme dislikes. Or at least mildly irritating and an inconvenience.

I used to have to be on severe mind-altering drugs and driven to the dentist by a friend because I'd frequently pass out cold due to my exhausting fear of needles. I can tell you that friends slowly stopped answering their phones.

Once I became pregnant and couldn't be on "assistance", I had to exchange the drug safety net for a paper bag. I was actually impressed that the dentist had a paper bag nearby. And a lot of patience.

Dentist: "Just breeeeeathe slooooowly into the bag. Deep breaths. (Muffled words) ... we're losing her ..."
Me: Passed out cold, limbs splayed out like a starfish.

My favorite dentist was actually an old neighbor of mine. He and his partner lived right next door and they would throw the most salacious parties. An invitation was always extended to me because I was in my late 20s and single, while living in a neighborhood of families and couples. It was 100% a pity invite.

Eddy was Puerto Rican, and the biggest shindig of the year was a paella party. They would spent thousands of dollars on this gathering, even serving lobster! I wanted so badly to be a part of their scene, but I never felt relevant enough to be hovering around a table of hor d'oeuvres while they discussed current events and joked about gay pop culture. Most of it flew right over my head like a rocket to the moon.

I'd shovel pita and hummus, olives, and crudités in my mouth, all while staring wide-eyed and taking in every bit of information. I felt like I was studying up for the next party. One of these days, I'd be a contributor.

One time, I actually forced myself to stay as late as possible, and I was certainly rewarded.

Sometime around 11:00pm, Eddy busted out a prosthetic penis that hooked around his waist and did a dance around the living room that must have been choreographed. The room erupted, and I stood there, laughing with sheer joy ... with hummus still lingering on my face.

If social anxiety got the best of me, I'd slip out quietly, and observe the backyard portion of the party from my bedroom window, like a total creeper.

Eddy understood my fear of dentists, and because of that, he prescribed the best drugs. One time, he handed me a piece of paper.

Eddy: "OK. This is a prescription for something I want you to take before your next appointment. You have to have someone drive you. I don't want to scare you, but you won't remember anything."
Me: "Scared? That sounds like an effing vacation."

Unfortunately that particular drug became illegal for dentists to hand out, so he gave me Valium. Apparently, I am immune to Valium.

So he tried another one. I was really working through my list of friends at this point, and next up was Aaron. I could actually hear him rolling his eyes through the phone.

Aaron: "Umm...yeah. Sure. I can drive you. I guess this means I have to take the entire day off work too?"
Me: "Thanks, Man. I know ... I'm the worst friend ever. I'll buy you dinner afterwards."
Aaron: "Dinner with a completely drugged-out person sounds like such a reward."
Me: "You're welcome ahead of time."

Unfortunately, this drug didn't exactly jive with my system. The moment Aaron pulled into the parking lot of the dentist office, I vomited all over the car door.

Thankfully for him, it was my car door because apparently Aaron is psychic and knew this was going to happen and didn't want my drugged ass in his own car.

Afterwards, as promised, I took Aaron out for Thai food. I can't remember exactly what happened, but I do remember thinking I was the funniest person in the room. Aaron wasn't available to take me to any more appointments.

Sadly, Eddy is no longer my dentist. He and his partner Stan broke up. Eddy went insane, and from what I understand, moved back to Puerto Rico without telling a soul. I don't think he understood the devastation left behind: Me.

The thought of finding another dentist was not unlike sticking a hot poker in my eyeball. 

I went through a myriad of new dentists and I always found a reason why they weren't qualified. Basically, Eddy was irreplaceable, and eventually I knew I just needed to suck it up.

A couple of months ago, I decided to try out a new dentist. I had an appointment for a crown yesterday, and received five Novocaine shots for one tooth because numbing me is not unlike tranquilizing an elephant. My palms were dripping with sweat and my legs shook so badly that I nearly fell down in the hallway while on a trip to the bathroom.

Assistant: "Whhoooooa. You look like a baby giraffe! Let me help you to the bathroom."

I eventually landed back in my chair with only half of my face functioning.

Assistant: "So, what do you do?"
Me: "I shell texshtiles"
Assistant: "Textiles? Oh wow. That sounds very interesting!"
Me: "Yesh. I cover Oregon, Inaho, and Anashka...Anlashka...ugh...(eye roll). Nehermine."
Assistant: "Alaska?"
Me: "Yesh. I'n going dere nest yeek."
Assistant: "Oh wow, next week! I bet it's beautiful there!"
Me: "Yesh."

An hour later, I had a meeting...because I'm incredibly talented when it comes to scheduling my days. Thankfully it was virtual, but I can tell you that my contributions were very little and at one point I dribbled water down my chin and onto my sweater, all while the camera was on. I nonchalantly picked up a towel and wiped down my entire body.

In general, I've found that some of the best conversations happen when your mouth is wide open and all ten of the dentist's fingers, plus a few from the assistant, are meddling around in your mouth like they are kneading a loaf of bread for Thanksgiving.

Dentist: "Are you enjoying this nice weather we are having?"
Me: "Ayah. I yike da hunhine an all da hall coyorsh on da tees."
Dentist: "Oh yes, the leaves this year are so beautiful! Are you from here?"
Me: "Na. I'n hrum Oyegun dough."
Dentist: "Oh! A real-life Oregonian on our hands! Wow!"

When the dentist left the room, my eyes slowly scanned over to the screen that had an obscene close-up of the tooth they were working on, as well as some notes from the last appointment. The photo was alarming ... all gums and a whittled down tooth being prepped for a crown. The tooth looked like an angry bald man.

Looking at the photo, I felt nauseated and the sound of the drill pounded through my head. It reminded me of the time I heard a loud clambering sound, and found my tiny mother on top of a jack hammer outside our garage.

Me: "What are you DOING?!"
Mom: "I'm removing this concrete that your father poured."
Me: "I don't -"
Mom: Jack hammer commencing.
Me: Eye roll

My eyes went back to the comments from the last appointment.

Patient is phobic of needles and has high anxiety. Use extreme caution when administering medication. She did really well!

Inner monologue: Well, that's a relief. This fragile ego couldn't handle any more insults, am I right?! Look at that! You did really well ... though I'm guessing the bar is pretty much rock bottom for you.