Brusha Brusha Brusha

Oh, how I deplore that scene from the original motion picture version of the musical G.rease...

You know the one...the slumber party, with several actresses in their 20s attempting to depict teen-aged girls in the 50's...in their cute little jammies, with their hair in rollers, or a mud mask on their face, painting nails, when one of them jumps onto the bed, and begins mimicking the commercial played on tv with the beaver encouraging us all to "brusha brusha brusha" our teeth...

And yet...

If only I'd listened to all those lessons from school, taken the dentists' advice over the years to floss daily, brush twice a day, stay away from candy, sugary snacks and drinks, especially dark colored ones... SIGH...

When I went in for my cleaning and exam in February, I was told by a dentist that I never even registered the face of, as he was hiding behind a mask, and those nifty magnifying scope glasses that only dentist wear these days, who turned out to be a total hottie that I had 2 cavities...small ones, but on the "chewing surface of your second molars"...SIGH...and so, I scheduled a time to go in and have them filled.

I never knew I had holes in my teeth...no sensitivity, no pain, no "stickiness" when I was chewing...

This morning, I indulged in a rare 3 cups of coffee (and am paying the price now), and a "big" breakfast of eggs and toast, along with some fruit and yogurt. I knew that I'd be getting large doses of Novacaine in my gums mid-morning, and would therefore be numb for the better part of the day...I was anxious about going in, being as a I have a large, unhealthy fear of needles, and small power tools in my mouth...

I arrived at the dentist, checked in, visited their teeny tiny restroom, drank about 8 teeny tiny cups of water, visited the restroom again, wiped my sweaty palms, tried to calm my racing heart...and was walked back by a very nice hygienist with an Eastern European accent lingering in his speech, sparkling blue eyes, and a nose with the marks of a long-ago break. In slow motion, or so it seemed, I sat down in the dental chair, watched him take my blood pressure, answered questions about my medication, signed a release form, and waited for the dentist to walk in. Time slowed even more as I turned to see this totally hot, young dentist walk in, shake my hand, pat my shoulder and explain the procedure to me...he used some funky pink gel that tasted faintly of bubblegum (why does everything have to taste like candy at the dentist? isn't that cruel and unusual punishment?) to topically numb the injection site, and said "if you don't like needles, now is the time to close your eyes, and just breathe deeply through your nose for a couple of minutes"...3 doses later, I was numb. The fillings themselves only took a matter of minutes, but it seemed an eternity as they pried my mouth open, putting power tools, vacuums, and water hoses in...my lips were uncomfortably stretched out, drying, my mouth a Saharan wasteland, yet strangely arctic from the air and water...but the best part was something vaguely resembled a hair dryer crossed with a laser gun and then mated with a tanning light...some sort of concentrated heat and UV to cure the filling...and then they shaped me with a little bitty Dre.mel thing, polishing, smoothing...and I paid my bill and walked out.

All in all, it was 75 minutes from start to finish, not including the 20 minute drive each way.

I think I know now how my car feels when I take it to the mechanic...and now have a new respect for dentists everywhere...and found myself wishing, ridiculously, that I'd taken a bit more time to perhaps curl my hair, put on eye shadow, maybe pick something cuter to wear...and that my skin wasn't beginning to freak out from the medication I'm taking right now...

Today's Lesson? DO WHAT THE DENTIST TELLS YOU TO DO! then...you won't find yourself wondering what your dentist thinks of you, wondering how you can flirt with a man when your mouth is unable to actually say any words...OY!