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I am not someone who minds going to the dentist. I even, sorta, like that it hurts when they scrape all the plaque and tartar or whatever away from my gums. Yes, it fucking hurts, but I know that it's cleaning my teeth and making them feel nice, and I appreciate that enough to ride out the pain. Of course, I saw a new dentist today and it felt a little like, when she switched to the scraping tool, that she was trying to chip away at my teeth instead of the bad stuff. So that wasn't awesome. I did get a goody bag with not one but two travel-sized toothpastes (very handy!) and two things of floss (awesome, I'm always losing mine).
I find it hilarious that, because I keep seeing new dentists as my insurance changes, they keep mentioning the same things over and over. I know, not their fault, they don't know what the others said. But I'm now dangerously at a point where I'm ready to dismiss dental advice over issues with my teeth that I know, given that the "possible problems" I've had for years haven't developed into anything, aren't going to develop into anything. For instance, my new dentist thinks I might have one thing leading to a cavity, but she cleaned out the area and it's most likely just a divot or chip and it's not decaying or anything. We'll keep an eye on it, she says. A previous dentist thought that same spot might be a cavity. SIX YEARS AGO. I have a funky chip in my tooth. I swear it's not going to rot away before your eyes!
There's also the weird, almost pitying reaction I get when they try to break the news to me that I have failed to produce one adult molar. As if this is like being told you have mouth cancer. Point of fact, I've been told I have mouth tumors--perfectly harmless, very common overgrowth of the lower mandible--and this news was delivered with less solemnity than this news about my molar. For the record, I am aware of this situation, have been my whole life. It's my Dad's fault--he's got at least two juvenile molars, and my siblings and I all have at least one. We just don't, genetically, produce an adult tooth. The baby tooth is totally fine. Unless he's had some dental work I don't know about, my Dad's baby teeth are still fine at 63. Yes, its roots are puny, but it's healthy. The teeth around it are healthy.
Yet for some reason, new dentist wanted to ask me about my "plans" for that tooth. She, in all seriousness, asked me about what I was going to do when the tooth fell out. Um, this is a decades-away problem, so I don't really want to makes plans about it? I sort of hope we have better alternatives then?
So, yeah, I'm good for six months, my mouth feels well and truly abused, and I'm going to the Met to see the Alexander McQueen exhibit today. I'm a little miffed that people in my lab actually dressed up a bit for this outing. So what if it's not the Superheroes and Fashion exhibit of yesteryear? I believe in being comfortable at a museum, and fancy shoes and skirts do not equal me being comfortable. That, and because I have no sense of how to dress myself, I have nothing that stretches the divide between my every-day clothes (jeans, zip-up hoodie/fleece, a nerdy t-shirt--today it's Dr. Horrible, and two people have already inquired as to who is on my shirt this morning) and fancy stuff. Fuck it. I'll be the schlub at the high-fashion whatsis. At least I'll be comfortable.
I find it hilarious that, because I keep seeing new dentists as my insurance changes, they keep mentioning the same things over and over. I know, not their fault, they don't know what the others said. But I'm now dangerously at a point where I'm ready to dismiss dental advice over issues with my teeth that I know, given that the "possible problems" I've had for years haven't developed into anything, aren't going to develop into anything. For instance, my new dentist thinks I might have one thing leading to a cavity, but she cleaned out the area and it's most likely just a divot or chip and it's not decaying or anything. We'll keep an eye on it, she says. A previous dentist thought that same spot might be a cavity. SIX YEARS AGO. I have a funky chip in my tooth. I swear it's not going to rot away before your eyes!
There's also the weird, almost pitying reaction I get when they try to break the news to me that I have failed to produce one adult molar. As if this is like being told you have mouth cancer. Point of fact, I've been told I have mouth tumors--perfectly harmless, very common overgrowth of the lower mandible--and this news was delivered with less solemnity than this news about my molar. For the record, I am aware of this situation, have been my whole life. It's my Dad's fault--he's got at least two juvenile molars, and my siblings and I all have at least one. We just don't, genetically, produce an adult tooth. The baby tooth is totally fine. Unless he's had some dental work I don't know about, my Dad's baby teeth are still fine at 63. Yes, its roots are puny, but it's healthy. The teeth around it are healthy.
Yet for some reason, new dentist wanted to ask me about my "plans" for that tooth. She, in all seriousness, asked me about what I was going to do when the tooth fell out. Um, this is a decades-away problem, so I don't really want to makes plans about it? I sort of hope we have better alternatives then?
So, yeah, I'm good for six months, my mouth feels well and truly abused, and I'm going to the Met to see the Alexander McQueen exhibit today. I'm a little miffed that people in my lab actually dressed up a bit for this outing. So what if it's not the Superheroes and Fashion exhibit of yesteryear? I believe in being comfortable at a museum, and fancy shoes and skirts do not equal me being comfortable. That, and because I have no sense of how to dress myself, I have nothing that stretches the divide between my every-day clothes (jeans, zip-up hoodie/fleece, a nerdy t-shirt--today it's Dr. Horrible, and two people have already inquired as to who is on my shirt this morning) and fancy stuff. Fuck it. I'll be the schlub at the high-fashion whatsis. At least I'll be comfortable.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 04:20 pm (UTC)His verdict? Two spots worth keeping an eye on; one that was a not-quite-cavity and needed some moderate, very quick work; one that was A SHADOW ON THE X-RAY. Needless to say, I will not be going back to that dentist. (I recently made an appt. for next month with a new dentist up here, fingers crossed...)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 07:32 pm (UTC)My mom once went to a dentist on the level you describe. He fixed a broken tooth so badly that when she went back one his partners (his brother-in-law, to boot), was so embarrassed, he fixed the "fix" for free. Never went to that office again after that.
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Date: 2011-05-20 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 11:45 pm (UTC)