My dentist is a funny guy.
He is also gentle, efficient, quiet, skilled, calm, and altogether very pleasant.
It is really hard to hate him.
I didn’t intend to go back to see him again so soon, but a chunk of a very old filling came loose so I made an appointment, without having a mild panic attack. It’s about time I outgrew this fear, wouldn’t you say? My dentist is not all that scary, after all. The night before I was scheduled to see him, (and the only good thing about this is the timing) another chunk of another very old filling also broke away from another molar. My teeth are falling out of my head as we speak. Or at least I am living with that stupid worry.
As much as I distress myself about all the work that has to be done, I’m very thankful to be in a place and time where it’s all possible and to have dental insurance that will pay for some of it. The prep work for a permanent bridge to fill in a gap (which I’ve had for years but before now never agreed to have fixed) has already been done. Ouch, physically and financially. Two more visits to completion, including a temporary and then a permanent crown. I can do this.
He told me I made a good impression. HAHA! They took about four of them with that weird pink goop that hardens and sets and feels like it’s never going to come loose without cracking your jaw. He assured me that only a couple of teeth came out with it, no worries.
I came home feeling a bit sorry for myself, had a liquid lunch, took a couple of pain killers and went to sleep. And after all that I felt a lot better. I forgave the dental assistant for gagging me with the suction pump, or whatever it’s called. The freezing came out of my eyeball and my nose. Frankly I don’t care if they freeze my entire head, but why do dental people always ask complicated questions when your mouth is full of plastic and clamps and pink goop?
So what does all this have to do with Sunday? Well, nothing really, it’s just what day of the week it happens to be, and the dentist visit happens to be what popped into my head. And now I would like to pop it right back out again and listen to something that has nothing to do with drills and bridges and bibs around the neck.
There have been many covers of this song, but nobody comes close to Etta James. Enjoy, and have a lovely lazy Sunday.