Today I had a dentist appointment.
It was just wonderful and lovely (Read: it was torture like I’ve never known before).
When I first arrived, the receptionist greeted me warmly. AND since the appointment WAS at like 8 in the morning, I of course, greeted her warmly back (read: spoke in my man voice in monotone).
Then, they escort me back to the dentist. He is all sorts of cheeriness and talking about how much he loves his job and coming to work in the morning.
This does not make me feel better.
And although my dentist APPEARS to be a gentle, kind old man, I know this to be a lie.
The pain and suffering he put me through makes me think he is quite possibly the devil in disguise.
First, they tell me I have to get a freaking crown on my teeth. How did this happen? I have no idea.
So…what do they do? Shoot me up with some freaking needles.
I, like the rational 25 year old I am, start BAWLING my eyes out. This is totally normal.
He is very concerned.
And I just have to explain that I am a bit mentally insane and therefore still cry when I get shots.
When he is done implementing that torture device he called a ‘numbing needle’, he says: well, are you ready for the crown?
“What do you think, old dude? DO I LOOK READY FOR YOU TO PRACTICALLY KILL ME TODAY????” I said in my angriest voice.
ORRRR maybe I just smiled politely and shook my head, ‘yes’.
But, in my alternate universe where I say all of my thoughts, that is what I said.
So then, he decides to put that freaking cap onto my tooth. Great. Just freaking great.
He gets his dental hygienist to come in.
She too acts friendly. She too is a dirty little liar. What she does is not friendly. I am beginning to think that the two of them are here together just to end my life.
I say my final prayers.
And it gets worse.
The dentist holds my jaw open so wide I am positive it will crack at any moment. In the meantime, I am so numb my tongue starts to slip out of my mouth and drip drool right down my chin (I know, I am so sexy!)
So what does she do? Try to hold my tongue still with some sort of miniature medieval-looking joust.
While she’s doing that? I feel my tongue choking me! I am screaming “Oh my goodness! I can’t breathe! I CAN’T BREATHE!!!!!!!!” (and by screaming, I mean I am sitting quietly thinking to myself that I guess these are my last moments and I just am going to die here in the dentist’s chair. I hope Brandon knows I love him.)
This reminds me of a time in college.
I was sitting in my abnormal psychology class.
All of a sudden, my eyes go black. I look to my friend, Olivia and say:
“I can’t see!”
You can’t see?
“I can’t breathe!”
You can’t breathe??
The professor thought I was having a panic attack. I was not. I am just a lunatic.
Where was I? Oh yea, the devil dentist dressed like a sweet old man.
So after I survive my near death experience, they pull and tug and press until I again think my jaw will break in half any second and I will have to file a lawsuit against this man and his hygienist.
But alas, they finally get the cap on.
Now, I am finally home. Sitting on the couch. Drooling all over myself. While the dog sniffs my lips because she cannot figure out what is wrong with me.
Go away dog.
I am in a bad mood.
I almost lost my life today.