Sunday 21 January 2018

#420 Room four

I started laughing aloud as I walked to my appointment. The laughter was a habit I'd picked up over the last couple of years. I'd been trying to keep it in check more lately because if someone starts laughing for no reason other than their own thought process, they can seem a bit crazy but at this particular part of my journey, there didn't appear to be anyone else around, so I chuckled and chortled my way along the pavement.

It was two o'clock and I was headed for the hygienist. The thought that I was voluntarily and somewhat briskly walking towards a place that was known to cause me real physical pain had me in stitches.

The giggles subsided upon reaching reception. That was where I usually felt most nervous. Those few minutes on the waiting room seats, where there was nothing else to do but anticipate the next part. Fortunately I'd taken Hetal's advice and turned up pretty much dead on the appointment time, so I was only waiting thirty seconds.

In the dentist's chair, I started laughing again. Not so much that the hygienist couldn't do her work but now and then in between being stabbed in the gum, I'd have a cackle. It was like she was playing a game with me. She'd press the scaler to the gumline and then push it further and further up. I'd tense. Then I'd tense some more. Then just when she detected a sufficient amount of pain, which I was convinced was the true purpose of the whole process, she'd stop. I'd laugh and she'd move on to the next tooth. It went on like that for several minutes.

I was grateful for the ultrasonic scaler. Last time I saw a hygienist, reception hadn't booked in enough time so the dentist decided to do a deep clean the old fashioned way, with nothing but muscle power and a steel pick. A process not nearly as funny.

This afternoon's appointment ran smoothly though. The only unusual part was at the end when she handed me a mirror and for a moment, I got to act out the scene from Fight Club where the narrator opens his mouth at the office. I wasn't quite sure what to say about my reflection. I could've made fun and said "What do you think this is, a barber shop?" Instead I simply complimented her handiwork. She was probably done bullying my mouth for the day but I was still in the chair and she still had her gloves on. I decided to keep the jokes to myself.

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