My (Tooth) Brush With Death – Part II

The dental hygienist put her gloved fingers in my mouth. And yes, I survived. But my neurotic meltdown over germ-infested gloves was only the beginning.

woman dentist, rubber glove, surgical mask, blonde woman, dental hygienist

Yup, even days later, she's still evil.

She then proceeded to pull the left corner of my mouth over towards my ear. And over some more. And some more. When she reached my ear, she stapled my mouth to it. Ditto the right side of my mouth. Then she grabbed my bottom lip and pulled it down. And down some more. And some more. Until she reached my sternum. Where she then stapled my bottom lip. My upper lip was stretched up and over the top of my head. She didn’t staple it though. There was no need. She just used my hair to tie it down.

I borrowed this picture from my dear friend Dufus. I hope he doesn't mind, but I thought it went perfectly with this story.

She started the cleaning with a water pick. The first thing I noticed was that she muttered to herself. Constantly. The second thing I noticed was that she never actually completed any of the sentences she was muttering.

“Oh, first we’ll have to… mmm, I think maybe… no, that’s ok… why won’t it… oh, there we… I might… ok… I could always… oh, yes, I definitely… oh, sorry”

That final “oh, sorry” was actually directed at me. You see, the last but most definitely NOT least thing I noticed was that she was so engrossed in her mutterings that she would completely forget about the spit-suction-thingie (yes, that is the medical term for that particular apparatus) they use to vacuum the water and spit from your mouth.

When the water was flowing freely out of my mouth, running down my cheeks, my neck, the chair and eventually the floor (and I was half- drowned), she would break out of her reverie, issue the apology and place the spit-suction-thingie in my mouth for barely a second, which wasn’t even remotely long enough to suction up the ocean in my mouth. And with my mouth stapled and tied to various parts of my head and chest, there wasn’t much I could do, except gargle and breathe through my nose.

Toward the end of the ordeal, she unstapled my mouth from my ears and sternum and untied my upper lip. This was a major relief, because the next time I was drowning and she placed the spit-suction-thingie in my mouth, I was able to grab that sucker, wrap my mouth around it and pretend it was our first third date. That’s when I decided to name spit-suction-thingie Raoul.

After an hour of this torture, the dental hygienist was done. She gave me a new toothbrush, a Barbie-sized tube of toothpaste and a book of stickers. Except without the book of stickers. And she finally took her gloves off.

Of course, that’s when the dentist came in to fix my fillings. Yeah, he was wearing gloves.

root canal, surgery, latex gloves, needle

The bright light shining in my face to hide the sadistic gleam in my dentist's eyes... this is exactly what it looked like. Except that I'm a girl.


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