TMI at the Dentist
A couple of years ago, I had a particularly bad experience with a lady dentist who was chosen by virtue of the fact that 1) she was on the list of approved dentists for my insurance and 2) her office was walking distance from my office. Yes, I now know that these are not the most important qualities to consider when choosing a person who is paid to inflict pain upon you and berate you for less than stellar performance in the flossing arena.
So I'd gone in for a couple of cleanings, no major problems. But when I actually had to go in for a filling, the job was painful and my tears ignored. In fact, the dentist was joking, borderline making-fun-of my "low" pain threshold. I actually have a very high pain threshold (thanks to migraines, natural childbirth, and an ungodly number of shaving nicks attributable to cheap razors). To add insult to injury, this dentist spent ten minutes chatting to her sons (who were interning at her office that summer) about where they were going for lunch and who would be there and which car to take, etc. etc. etc. while she was in the middle of working on my teeth! Actually, she just sat there with her hands and tools idly in my mouth, hanging out, as it were, waiting to finish the conversation before continuing with my torture. So, after this traumatic cavity experience I didn't go to the dentist for almost 2 years.
Feeling guilty and a little scummy in the choppers, I finally broke down and chose a new dentist about 6 months ago. Once again, I let geography dictate the choice, this time choosing the dentist nearest my home (yeah, I know, I know, but it worked out OK this time). And I liked his name. And I like the nice office manager/receptionist who strikes me as a warm Jewish mother type, though not my mother, thus without all that guilt and nagging. (I now realize guilt and nagging are universal mothering tools of the trade, and not particular to Jewish mothers; perhaps they're just renowned for having perfected the art...)
So, I go in for my LONG overdue cleaning and check-up and relate my tale of woe and grief from my last dental disaster. The dentist asks who this monster-dentist was, and when I share her name, he shakes his head and says, "I'm just not going to say anything." I figure he's been brought up in the old-school "if you can't say anything nice..." method. Anywho...
I get a filling and a crown replaced with my new dentist, who uses giggle gas, and why-oh-why haven't I ever gone that route before! No tears, no jokes at my expense. My faith in dentistry is restored.
So, shortly after my return to good oral hygiene, I joined my husband in the Sonicare toothbrush revolution and I'm a complete convert now. Teeth feel super slick and clean all the time now. And at my 6 month check up this week, I got an A+ on my professional exam and an appointment for 6 months from now.
I did have a different dental hygienist this time and I got an earful while she was checking me and doing the cleaning. I walked in holding a book.
"Oh, are you a reader? Do you like mysteries? I love mysteries. Janet Evanovich is my favorite." (I gargle in agreement.) "I like those cat mysteries too, but not the lesbian mysteries. I love animals. I have 4 dogs at home now." Followed by more information than any stranger ought to know about adult kids returned home (with spouses and girlfriends and pets), son in the service, son-in-law in jail for abusing her grandkids, mother-in-law with Alzheimers... ALL this, with much more detail, and fewer breaks than the above punctuation implies. And you can't actually comment, what with all the dental implements in your mouth, which, in this case, is actually merciful, because, really, what the hell do you say to someone who spills out this personal litany while cleaning your teeth?
After my cleaning was completed and I was ready to go, I think I said something along the lines of, "OK, then. Um, thanks for the new floss." I was numb from the level of TMI in the cubicle and dying to just get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge. What can one say in a situation like this? I'll be prepared next time with one of the following comebacks:
a) "Wow, your life sucks! How do you manage to drag your @ss out of bed every morning?"
b) "Thanks for making me realize how normal my life is, comparatively speaking."
c) "OK, then. Um, thanks for the new toothbrush."
What do you think?
So I'd gone in for a couple of cleanings, no major problems. But when I actually had to go in for a filling, the job was painful and my tears ignored. In fact, the dentist was joking, borderline making-fun-of my "low" pain threshold. I actually have a very high pain threshold (thanks to migraines, natural childbirth, and an ungodly number of shaving nicks attributable to cheap razors). To add insult to injury, this dentist spent ten minutes chatting to her sons (who were interning at her office that summer) about where they were going for lunch and who would be there and which car to take, etc. etc. etc. while she was in the middle of working on my teeth! Actually, she just sat there with her hands and tools idly in my mouth, hanging out, as it were, waiting to finish the conversation before continuing with my torture. So, after this traumatic cavity experience I didn't go to the dentist for almost 2 years.
Feeling guilty and a little scummy in the choppers, I finally broke down and chose a new dentist about 6 months ago. Once again, I let geography dictate the choice, this time choosing the dentist nearest my home (yeah, I know, I know, but it worked out OK this time). And I liked his name. And I like the nice office manager/receptionist who strikes me as a warm Jewish mother type, though not my mother, thus without all that guilt and nagging. (I now realize guilt and nagging are universal mothering tools of the trade, and not particular to Jewish mothers; perhaps they're just renowned for having perfected the art...)
So, I go in for my LONG overdue cleaning and check-up and relate my tale of woe and grief from my last dental disaster. The dentist asks who this monster-dentist was, and when I share her name, he shakes his head and says, "I'm just not going to say anything." I figure he's been brought up in the old-school "if you can't say anything nice..." method. Anywho...
I get a filling and a crown replaced with my new dentist, who uses giggle gas, and why-oh-why haven't I ever gone that route before! No tears, no jokes at my expense. My faith in dentistry is restored.
So, shortly after my return to good oral hygiene, I joined my husband in the Sonicare toothbrush revolution and I'm a complete convert now. Teeth feel super slick and clean all the time now. And at my 6 month check up this week, I got an A+ on my professional exam and an appointment for 6 months from now.
I did have a different dental hygienist this time and I got an earful while she was checking me and doing the cleaning. I walked in holding a book.
"Oh, are you a reader? Do you like mysteries? I love mysteries. Janet Evanovich is my favorite." (I gargle in agreement.) "I like those cat mysteries too, but not the lesbian mysteries. I love animals. I have 4 dogs at home now." Followed by more information than any stranger ought to know about adult kids returned home (with spouses and girlfriends and pets), son in the service, son-in-law in jail for abusing her grandkids, mother-in-law with Alzheimers... ALL this, with much more detail, and fewer breaks than the above punctuation implies. And you can't actually comment, what with all the dental implements in your mouth, which, in this case, is actually merciful, because, really, what the hell do you say to someone who spills out this personal litany while cleaning your teeth?
After my cleaning was completed and I was ready to go, I think I said something along the lines of, "OK, then. Um, thanks for the new floss." I was numb from the level of TMI in the cubicle and dying to just get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge. What can one say in a situation like this? I'll be prepared next time with one of the following comebacks:
a) "Wow, your life sucks! How do you manage to drag your @ss out of bed every morning?"
b) "Thanks for making me realize how normal my life is, comparatively speaking."
c) "OK, then. Um, thanks for the new toothbrush."
What do you think?
posted by Tacey at
8:38 PM
2 Comments:
I vote for #3. Really, all other attempts would be lost on those people. I think they take a class in hygiene school called Inane Conversation 101. Possibly taught by Ellen Degeneras.
By
Anonymous, at 1/17/2008 7:39 PM
And now I have to say this about my recent visit to the dentist: my hygienist told me (and I quote) You can tell your husband that your dentist said you really DO have a small mouth.
What do you do with that, besides snort the mouthwash up your nose?
By
Anonymous, at 3/23/2008 8:53 PM
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