...and i floss!

it's going to happen again.  they've got me booked.

after years of going to the dentist whenever the spirit moved me (which was definitely not a semi-annual event...), i've been roped in.

i'm due for my 6 month.  today.  2pm. 

and i am terrified.

before you judge me and imagine that i'm just one of those women who never grew up, let me explain.

in my youth, i always had a positive relationship with the dentist chair.  i looked forward to the new tooth brush, to the potential for stickers, to the positive feedback i was sure to get from the assistants and "the man" (or woman).  i did not hesitate to head in the direction of the gritty toothpaste and rubbery tooth-cleanin' machine.

but that was then.

as i have grown older, my teeth have grown weaker.  lamer.  pu$$ies.

what were once "pretty teeth!" with ne'er an issue, are now cavity-prone and worn from nightly teeth grinding.

i blame it on reality tv that permeates my dreams.

...anyway.

the last time i went in for a check-up, it had been over 2 years since my last appointment.  2 years, friends.  and shit, apparently, happens in that period of time.

i had 7 cavities.  i think.  it got to be so many that it was difficult to count.

i just closed my eyes, cursed and tried to visualize happy sex while i was drilled.

it still hurt.  a lot.

you know they use effin' giganto needles to numb your mouth prior to cavity excavation, right? 

it's true.

i don't like 'em in my arm.  i don't like 'em in my hand.  i don't like 'em in my bum and i certainly don't want 'em in my mouth.

fucking.needles.

it's the worst part of the dentist.  and, unfortunately for me, it's an inevitable danger each and every time i sit in that damn chair as an adult.

so let's get something clear.

i floss.  usually.  i brush my teeth with moderate vigor. 

something about this life has created a magnetic force between me and the dreaded sharps.  is it karma?  is it bad joo-joo? 

what have i done to deserve this torture?

but so it is.  and so i come to the office today, pre-dentist, prepared.

75 mini-flossers sit in my desk drawer.  a bottle of listerine total care is standing alongside my laptop.  my toothbrush is at the ready.

like many folks, presumably, i am praying that some hard-core cleaning and disinfecting will hide any potential cavities that exist in my amy mouth. 

but my dentist is tricky.  in a high-tech kinda way.

he's got this mouth camera that actually depicts - in vibrant color - each and every crevice in your mouth in which problematic bacteria/tartar may reside.

so that's where the listerine comes in.  if it works, i am writing a heartfelt letter to johnson&johnson.

cross your fingers, friends.

i'm about to take it to the face.