Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Thursday, May 09, 2002 So, to continue with the whole dental remodeling thing...
I actually had two appointments during the first two weeks of December, but had to cancel them at the time for what I'm sure were completely legitimate reasons, even though I can't remember them right now.
So now I was in this dilemma where I really, really, really didn't want to get my teeth fixed, but I really, really, really had to. And my brain was dealing with the situation by pulling a HAL 9000 and making sure I forgot entirely about the existence of anything remotely resembling a dental profession during the day when I could actually call and make an appointment, until I would leave work at five and the cold outside air would hit my upper left molar and I would go, "OW OW OW OW! I really have to call tomorrow and make that appointment." Then I would suffer through dinner, during which I'd have to make sure not to eat anything too hard, and I would drink less pop, and I would brush, floss, and use magic mouthwash before bed every night, and I would wake up the next morning and go to work, and gum my breakfast bar, and remind myself again that today, for sure, I really, really, really have to call, and then I would forget until the cold outside air hit my upper left molar again.
Now I was starting to get really bitter, mainly because I'd ignored my instincts and gone back to the dentist in the first place. My teeth didn't hurt at all until I got them cleaned. Apparently that ten-year build-up of tartar was providing all the protection my teeth needed, along with some much-needed structural integrity. At this point, I was just wishing I'd waited another ten years so it wouldn't be an issue.
Eventually, after several dozen circadian cycles of "forget, forget, forget, OW, forget forget, OW," I finally called the dentist's office to set up a new appointment. Naturally, the appointment clerk wasn't in, so I had to leave a message. Then she'd call me back, and I wouldn't be there, and I'd erase the message and lose the number again, and it'd be while again before I'd call back, at which point I wouldn't be able to get an appointment anyway for another two months after that, an appointment which I would be likely to end up canceling anyway. At this rate, I figured that ten years would go by in a snap, and all I had to do was look forward to the day when I could count my teeth staring up at me from the bathroom sink.
Or so I thought.
I hope you're brushing and flossing regularly now, because I'm just going to keep telling this story until you do. I'm not even bluffing here. posted by M. Giant 3:52 PM 0 comments