Dental Blogging

I had a visit to the dentist today. I have terrible teeth, a product of two parents with terrible teeth and growing up just before they figured the whole fluoride thing out. I don't think I'm exaggerating to say I've had well over 60 fillings, a dozen crowns and two partially fake teeth, plus I had a couple of teeth yanked out while I was not under a general anaesthetic. So I started seeing this particular dentist about 20 years ago and he pretty much reconstructed all my teeth. Since he did that I haven't really had any problems, aided by the fact that I have very little actual tooth surface remaining.

But today I went because something didn't feel right and he said I had a cracked filing that needed replacement. My dentist is a good guy and the work is nearly, or in today's case, completely painless.

Here's how being at the dentist that is different that the rest of my life: 

First and foremost, I rarely have other people's hands in my mouth. In fact, I rarely have anything other than food or beverage in my mouth. But at the dentist I spend a lot of time with two hands (or pieces of hands, anyway) and anywhere from 2 to 4 metal instruments, including a little vacuum cleaner in me. I once asked a dentist if they had funny nicknames for the instruments back when they were in dental school and he didn't find that at all amusing.

Aside from the hands in my mouth, between me and the spotlight, are two more hands and two heads, one of which is wearing a headset with magnifiers on both eyes and a flashlight in the middle of his forehead, like a very nearsighted miner.

Rather than me having to move, the dentist moves me wherever he wants to using the chair.

And my favorite thing, when he's working, my dentist uses me as a table. I understand that I'm horizontal and have a placemat on my chest, but shouldn't they at least ask permission before they start piling things on me?

But it's done for now. I'm still numb and sitting at one of my favorite places in Philadelphia, the Curtis Building lobby with the Tiffany "Dream Garden" mural until I have enough feeling to eat and drink something. Then it's on to a funeral...