Nodding Off In The Dentist's Chair

As I mentioned yesterday, I went back to the dentist for the follow up teeth drilling I'd booked a couple weeks ago. Got my teeth "descaled", which is apparently a much more thorough version of the iron hook and pick method of cleaning (or maybe not, it's been a while since). I was amazed by the amount of crud coming off my teeth (though to be fair, it was drifting across my field of vision about an inch from my eyes, and PEZ would look like the Monolith at that distance), and it brought to the surface one of those random bits I'd read about the Middle Ages regarding dental hygiene. I don't remember where I ran across it, but it was this vivid description of people scraping the plaque off their teeth with razors , it had gotten so thick and hard. All I could think about was the sound it would make when you finally dug through to the enamel and scraped a razor across it.

I should mention that I've never minded going to the dentist, and any lapses were because of poverty, not distaste or phobia. If I could afford to go get my teeth cleaned once a month, I would. Comfy chairs, clean teeth and hygienists tend to be friendly interesting people (though it could be relief that they're dealing with someone who's relaxed for once).

When I first went in and got the X-Rays, I warned them that I had a piece of metal in my upper jaw from when I got my wisdom teeth taken out, but the dentist was still shocked a bit. It looks pretty dramatic to see a chisel tip embedded in someone's jaw, and it's almost a perfect triangle. I'm proud of my alien implant damnit!

He commented on it again when I was getting prepped for drilling, and was amazed that I couldn't feel it, but really, I can't even tell it's there.

So now I've gotten my first filling! I go back again for another one in a couple of weeks! It kind of sucks! Not the actual filling process, but I hate the idea of it. It feels like I failed somehow, that despite the religious brushing and flossing and all, my teeth still rotted on me. My dentist was impressed that I hadn't needed it done until I was 33 but crap! Stupid teeth!

The actual procedure itself took about three hours, but it seemed shorter because I drifted off to sleep at one point. Those chairs are really comfy. Also, there is something wrong me, I think. I should not be napping when someone is drilling my teeth. I should not be describing my burst appendix in a calm, measured voice. My first thought should not be "Hmmmm... that's a lot of blood. It appears to be mine. Oh well, time for stitches."

I swear the freaking Black Knight from Quest For the Holy Grail polluted my gene pool at some point and it's going to get me killed one day.

That or I'll eat something from a Chinese supermarket that white people really can't eat safely. Story for another time.