This is a babbling 'ej goes to the Dentist' update. And no, I'm not on the nitrous oxide yet.
Reality is a rough road to travel. Sometimes I miss having the Mom make all the decisions for me; your doctor is this guy, your eye doctor is that guy, you are going to school, you can’t get a tattoo... You get the idea. Being a grown-up isn’t all fun and games. Sometimes you have to put on your big boy pants and make a decision. When we moved to Nashville, having to find a doctor just about wiped me out. All the stress about who was going to be poking at my bits and bobs was enough to send me mental. When I picked a doctor with perfect doctor name – Payne – who had a great rep AND she was awesome, I thought I had won the lottery. Having to find a dentist would be as rough, right? My teeth were always in great shape and I wasn’t going to have to get naked in front of them, they were only going to poke around in my mouth. A cleaning once every six months, how bad could it be? Apparently very bad, because there are horrible people who lie to you just to make a quota in crowns. When the New Dentist I’d found told me after a “great teeth” cleaning that I had eleven cavities and needed a root canal that would run me upwards of three thousand dollars, I badly wanted to be a kid again so Mom could deal with this. But I’m apparently a grown-up and grown-ups have to do their own unpleasant grown-up stuff. So, after I picked my face up off the floor and stopped laughing, I had my old dentist – now referred to forever more as Nicest Dentist Ever – look at the x-rays. He said I only needed two fillings and NO ROOT CANAL! Phew, right? The plan was going to be to fly to see him for the work but then I decided – well, Husband pointed out that I live here now, IN Nashville. I should find a dentist here, IN Nashville. I can’t always fly home if need be because home is now, IN Nashville... Sometimes I hate Husband even when I love him. After I stopped cussing Husband’s logic out, I went hunting for a third opinion from a dentist here, IN Nashville. This time, because I know a few people and picking a dentist because their office is near my grocery store and the website says nice things was a horrible way to go, I asked people for a dentist they liked. My next-door neighbor suggested her across-the-street neighbor, who happened to be dentist that she liked as a person AND as a dentist. Score! Neighbor Dentist confirmed what Nicest Dentist Ever had recommended – YAY – and that Bad New Dentist, with her, "You have eleven cavities and need a root canal." was full of crap! He went on to explain that corporate dentists like Bad New Dentist, have quotas that they have to achieve each month; X amount of crowns, X amount of x-rays, X amount of stupid treatment plans that are sure to send a person to the poor house. Neighbor Dentist was steaming. I was steaming. I felt totally vindicated. My teeth cleaning habits were still stellar. My teeth had not gone to war on me. I could like them again. As Brother would say, long story boring, I have a new dentist in Neighbor Dentist. I’m reporting Bad New Dentist. And I’m having the work done today the holy teeth. The end. Kidding. I’m me. That can’t be the end. I’ve not had a filling in twenty-five plus years. My brain is in overdrive with what will/can/might go wrong here. The, “What if…?” scenarios are pretty vivid. I’m thinking I should write my will in case I die on the table. I mean chair. Or worse, what if they drill into the wrong tooth? Or find more problems once they open me up? Or put in a spy bug that will record everything I say? Or implant a special chip that contains information that will prevent war or start war or is the actual switch that will start a war and all of a sudden, I’m being followed about by men in black SUV’s that are trying to capture me and I have no idea who the bad guys are and Matt Damon and Jason Stratum are no where to be found and all I have to fend off the bad guys with is a toilet paper roll and my iPhone and my years of street fighting learned by sitting on my ass watching Hollywood movies… Is it bad to drink before drilling?
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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