The Visit

In what must be my first dentist visit in - let's see - in a really long time, Friday saw me lying on the dentist chair. The company sponsored one visit per year so I thought I might as well take it.

The Caucasian lady who attended to me looked nice enough. Cleaning only? Yes, please. Maybe a routine checkup as well? OK. It all seemed quite innocent. It even started very mildly, some blowing of air, looks like everything's OK. And then she found my wisdom tooth and things pretty much went down hill from there.2 X-rays were taken and after some explanation from her, found them to not adversely affecting the other teeth. I imaginarily heaved a sigh of relieve.

Then came the cleaning/ scaling. The whole exercise reminded me mildly of my mum scrubbing at a very stubborn stain on a shoe except that this time, it involved some rather scary looking industrial impediments. Inwardly I was quite thankful for the sunglass she gave me because the looks I gave her from this point on were of pure pain. To think when she gave me the sunglasses she said she wouldn't even know if I went to sleep. If only I could!

I think she might have sensed I was in some pain and kept telling me what a good job I was doing and that what she was doing was "very good" for me. I was actually quite embarrassed after the whole thing ended. It was as if I was in primary school again. But then again, the sessions weren't this bad then - were they? To make matters worse, she tried to talk to me during some points in the entire episode and all I could say was "Arhh" and "Gnaarh". It certainly wasn't my finest hour.

To be sure though, I stood up from the dentist's chair a little more well informed than before. I now pay a little more attention to my dental health. I (try to) floss everyday. After all, if even I don't bother about them, them who will, with any luck accompany me for the next 60-70 years, who will?