September 18, 2008
Back From the War with Loot
Some of you are well aware of my love hate relationship with dentists. As in, I love to hate them because I have been terrified of them since childhood. Having uncaring, rough military dentists will do that to a girl. I've had braces, head gear, teeth yanked out and a lot of large hands shoved into my small mouth. Very little of it done with any sort of bedside manner other than "Lay back and open wide."
So, two weeks ago, when the pain in my jaw started, I ignored it. I slept on it funny. You know, nothing permanent. Two weeks later, my jaw still hurts. Every time I yawn, I have shooting pains. My lower jaw aches. I'm popping ibuprofen like candy. I admit, reluctantly, there is something wrong with me. I willingly agree to go to the dentist when yawning causes pain all way to my ear and my ear ball.
Being a wuss and having a husband willing to coddle me (the first time), I went to the dentist today. The office is owned by, run by and staffed by women. All women, all the time. I've never had a female dentist before today. You can tell the office is decorated by a woman with a strong sense of taste - lots of burgundy and grays and blacks. Very nice. Not girly. Strong enough for men to not be uncomfortable there.
Jeff introduces me and leaves. They are all nice and somewhat amused that the gothic horror writer is terrified of dentists until I mention "military dentists" as part of my background and then they all get the same "Oh... now we understand" look.
I was there for 2.5 hours. I had an exam, fitting for a night guard and a light cleaning. They determine my jaw pain is from unconsciously grinding my teeth at night. They asked me if I'd been under stress lately. I laughed and simply said "Yes." So, now, a night guard three nights a week.
But wait, there's more.
Since it's been about 4 years since the last dentist, I have 2 small cavities to deal with and some "deep" cleaning to do because, you know, things aren't the best in my mouth. THEN, after that, they want to yank out the last of the military metal filled fillings (I thought those bastards were already all gone) and give me new high-tech ones.
It was at this point that the dentist, after looking at me and all that had been done asked, "Is there any way I can convince you to consider braces for your overbite?"
It took all my willpower not to run screaming from that chair with visions of metal bands, wire and head gear tearing off after me. I managed, "Not any time soon." Thankfully, she accepted that. And maybe it was the look of horror on my face, too.
Then, once again, I was thankful for Microsoft insurance. All this planned out work to be done by the end of the year, is thousands of dollars worth and Jeff and I will pay about 10% of it. Pretty nice deal.
By the time I was done, I felt like I had been to the war. However, when I left, they gave me a huge gift package of stuff. It included:
Not bad, eh? Better still, Jeff took me out to lunch afterwards and was very sweet to me.