Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Bleeding Gums Hussy

Today I took the day off of work to get some things done, including a visit to the dentist. Now, I'm not one of those sniveling ninnies who cringes at the thought of sitting down in what some view as their local plastic covered G'itmo. It's not that I love going to the dentist, because I don't—but I do enjoy knowing that I am doing my part in keeping this world a little more periodontally correct.

I've only been seeing my dentist for the three years that I have been living here in So Cal, and he seems nice enough. He's a church man, which means God is holding Dr. So Cal's hand while he scrapes the plaque off my pearly whites. However, I was a little disappointed the first time I went to see Dr. So Cal and he informed me that he didn't give his patients nitrous oxide when performing more extensive dental tasks. I actually looked forward to getting cavities specifically because I knew I would get a hit of the nitrous while the little suckers were being filled. Alas, my legal high is not to be found with Dr. So Cal...but, today I did get a little emotional low from him.

Initially, I had gone in because of a sore back molar, which I assumed was probably a cavity, as I am quite fond of sucking on C&H sugar cubes throughout the day—you know, to make the workday a little sweeter. I jest. I don't really cube-suck like a well-behaved Equus caballus, but I do enjoy the casual sweet and/or soda. Combine the sweets and soda with what I believe to be less-than-substantial enamel, not to mention wimpy dentin, and you get cavities, right? Wrong, Motherhussy. Oh so wrong.

Dr. So Cal got out his most favorite dentist utensil, the one with the curved metal hook that sort of looks like a miniature scythe, and proceeded to push and poke at my teeth and gums while I writhed and attempted mumbled responses to his questions of, "Is this sensitive? How about this?" Well, by damnit! My gums were more sensitive than my teeth. That's when Dr. S. C. dropped the bomb on me.

"Well, it seems to me you are a little bit of a gum receding gal," he said while setting down his mini scythe.

I was shocked. Whaaaaaaa? A "gum receding gal?" Aren't those the kind of gals you see on Fox's hit series COPS? The kind of gals that are usually missing most of their teeth and peddle their toothless wares to undercover vices? Receding gum gals are the kind of gals that are often seen on COPS running away pantsless from the camera, not gals that run a household and work a full-time job--not the kind of gal like me! Not me.

Alas, I faced the truth, as it does seem that my periodontals need extra attention. Apparently I'm brushing too hard. Isn't that the damndest thing? Brushing too hard. I thought that the harder you brushed, the cleaner your teeth got and the closer you got to Heaven—not the harder you brushed the more crack-whoreish your gums got. Well, just so you don't all worry, Dr. So Cal said that my periodontal regression isn't so bad that a little extra care and a special (non-whore) mouthwash wouldn't help my gums from giving me any additional grief. So, although it may have been somewhat of a mild ego slap, I know that I will be a better person for confronting my sensitive gum issues.

With that said, who knows a dentist in the Southern California area that isn't stingy with the nitrous? As long as I’m hepped up, it won’t matter what the dentist says about my mouth. I’ll just smile and drool.

3 Comments:

At 2/01/2007 1:46 PM, Blogger David said...

I can't believe ICM hasn't weighed-in yet on the question of controlled substances.

 
At 2/01/2007 8:03 PM, Blogger jez said...

Here! here! ICM your absence is noted.

 
At 2/07/2007 11:36 AM, Blogger Moonery said...

This blog is a reminder that its been almost a year since my last denti visit. And ya, what gives with the nitris hoarding? I haven't had a dentist give me that since I was 16. Lame.

 

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