The procedure was simple: brush teeth furiously prior to the appointment and jab at my gums with floss. Dentist appointments were nothing foreign to me. As the car pulled into the driveway of the office, my eyes glanced at the all-too-familiar red-lipped, perfect toothed sign reading, “Simply Beautiful Smiles.” I waltzed through the glass doors of the office, the warm air embracing me from the winter temperatures outside. I suppressed a wheeze and greeted the ladies at the counter. At once, the scent of a peppermint candle invaded my nose before invading my lungs. In their black scrubs, they smiled their perfect smiles back. I plopped into a cushioned chair and observed the holiday decorations. Draped along the counter, stockings adorned in glitter glue clung onto a wire of lights. Michael Buble’s voice floated throughout the tiny waiting room, filling the silence. Before long, a “Dela Cruz?” was called and my dad glanced up from his phone and joked, “Hope you don’t have any cavities!” I rolled my eyes and followed the woman past cubicles of patients.
I walked passed high pitched drilling noises and other machinery on my way to a cubicle. Again, I plopped into another leather seat. Awkwardly, the lady asked me about life and I responded just as awkwardly, saying life was “good” when it was honestly mediocre—but she didn’t need to know that. “I need to take some x-ray pictures of your teeth,” she informed after dropping a weighted blanket onto my chest. She handed me a pair of sunglasses and clipped a paper bib around my neck, the cool chains sending shivers down my back. She instructed me to bite down onto a piece of plastic. The plastic jabbed into the roof of my mouth, the discomfort causing unintentional tears to pool at my eyes. The process would be found under the definition of “uncomfortable.” Afterward, she flipped a switch and the radiant light of the lamp above blinded me. “Deb will be here soon,” she said, and with that, she was gone. Left squinting, I directed my attention towards my cubicle. The walls were occupied by gingivitis posters and before and after pictures of more perfect teeth. I peered into the tray beside my head at all of the hooks and pointy metals. Before I could observe more, “Deb” the dentist walked in. She smiled with perfect teeth and yet again engaged in another awkward conversation. I wore the plastic sunglasses and felt the vibrations of the chair as I was lowered. Deb reached for the tray, the metallic tools clanging against each other. I sat patiently, allowing Deb to scrape and poke at my teeth. I stared at the ceiling, avoiding all eye contact. I pondered about what dentists thought when cleaning teeth and before I could proceed, my thoughts were interrupted by the vacuum-like tool in my mouth. “Bite down,” she said. The tool hummed. “...and open.” She continued cleaning, applying a minty paste to her brush. “So how are you doing Mikaela?” Though her hands were very well inside my mouth, I attempted to respond with a hum. Why do dentists always ask questions when their hands are in my mouth? I then noticed she was concentrated on my bottom left tooth. After more pokes and scraping, I felt my insides twist with anxiety. I watched Deb glance at my x-ray photos. I did the same, although I had no idea what I was looking at. She stood up, saying she’d be back. I felt my eyes widen as I stared at my x-ray photo. This had never happened before. What reason was there for Deb to leave and look that concerned? Dad’s voice echoed in my head along with all of the sugary candy I had ever eaten. “Well, it looks like you have a cavity, Missy.” Never in my life have I ever gotten a cavity. The condescending “Missy” made me feel even more embarrassed. Alas, in the corner of my mouth, lodged between two molars, was a minuscule cavity. The dentist’s words lingered in my brain as I laid back in the chair. Cotton balls clogged my cheeks. I watched nervously as he brought a needle towards my mouth. The sharp pinch in my gums stung but faded just as quickly into nothing. I watched as he drilled into a tooth deep down in the abyss of my mouth, dust floating in the air. I cringed out of disgust, feeling a cool sensation despite the numbness of the shot. It was as if ice cubes were in my mouth. A bitter substance was placed on the poor tooth. It had a sour kick to it and I had to physically prevent myself from gagging. That day was the last time I ever had a cavity. Never in my life will I ever binge eat candy and not brush like crazy afterward. The Hershey Kisses and Haribo Gummy Bears are not worth the cavity.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
December 2019
Categories |