April 4 13

(What Bat Mitzvah?)

So, I have a new dentist. Apparently.

I spend an awful lot of time at the dentist. This is something I can easily blame on bad genetics. (See also: my delicate wrist bones, my funky hiatal hernia and my Eastern European thighs, lovingly referred to around here as pulkes. Which, ps, my children also call chicken legs, the only part of the chicken they will come close to eating.) It’s true, though. Because, you see, I’m somewhat OCD about brushing my teeth. I floss, I brush, I even wear a goddamn nightguard (I’m nothing if not a sexy, sexy beast) The only three times in my life I wouldn’t consider myself capable of medaling in tooth brushing was when I was pregnant and the mere thought of sticking anything in my gob got my gag reflex going (rawr).

But even still, I have had a root canal, at least once. I had all four of my wisdom teeth removed. I have crumbling teeth (actual teeth that are crumbling. Just falling apart, as I’m sitting here writing this. CRUMBLING.), I have several crowns (yet I still can’t get my kids to call me Your Ladyship). I have to have something called crown lengthening in my near future in order to re-do a crown that needs improvement. I have terrible crowding due to a prematurely removed braces situation that involved stolen pliers. I have discoloration.

Basically, my mouth is a mess.

So, going to the dentist for a cleaning usually means I will be booking several more appointments. April 18th at 10am? Sure. October 22nd at noon? Why not? I’m probably free! Book, book, book. I use my google calendar on my phone for exactly two things—my book club and my dentist appointments. Everything else is written in a day planner from 2011—I’m basically Lelaina Pierce.

Yesterday I went for a cleaning and got a few lovely presents out of it. I got another appointment for Friday to fix a filling. And I got another dentist.

Yes. It’s true. Apparently, my dentist is gone without a trace and a new dentist is in her place. It was slightly surprising that he didn’t, you know, have a pair of boobs.

Not that I mind, to be honest.  As long as he doesn’t cackle maniacally like Orin Scrivello D.D.S. when his hands are inside of my mouth, and as long as he continues to supply all of my toothbrushes and my floss, I’m okay with it.

Orin Scrivello DDS

I’m sure he’s okay with it too. Since I’ll likely be paying his children’s tuition for the next six(teen) years.

  1. I pray to the dental gods above that my children do not inherit my teeth, um, “issues.” At 17 I had all four wisdom teeth removed. At once. I was only numbed for two. That expeirence kept me out of the dentist’s chair for years. I didn’t even go for a cleaning again until my mid-20s and it was in my late 20s that I decided to get serious and listen to the nice new dentist who wasn’t scary at all and didn’t seem like the type to put his knee in my chest and hold me down and rip out teeth from unnumbed gums.


    I am anal about my mouth now (and the kids’. Brush longer! Floss harder!) Even though, at 39, I still have braces (for the 3rd time (horrible pregnancy gingivitis the other times made them be removed each time)). I have no issues with going or having anything done and I go an insane amount each year to stay on top of my crumbling teeth, breaking crowns, and weak gums.

    Also, “Son, be a dentiiiiiiiiiist.”


    Comment by Arnebya on April 4, 2013
  2. I have a lot of metal and a couple crowns in my mouth as well. Luckily though my Dad is a dentist. It will be a sad day for my bank account when he retires.


    Comment by Corey Feldman on April 4, 2013
  3. I had that happen to me once, with the new dentist. It turned out AWFUL! So bad I stormed out of an appointment one time, ripping the paper bib off and throwing it in her face.

    But it was a blessing in disguise because now I LOVE my dentist. And I can’t believe I was with the crappy one for so long!

    In a few years, I’d be good money that most of my teeth would be fake, since I have so many crowns.


    Comment by Kristabella on April 4, 2013
  4. I don’t even get to see a general dentist. I have to see a periodontist every 4 months. And while everyone in the waiting room is sharing pictures of their grandchildren, I’m sharing pictures of my children. I am at least 30 years younger than the other patients and quite a novelty when I show up. It’s awful really, and I blame genetics too.

    “Ok. I get it. I have bad teeth.”



    Comment by Alison on April 4, 2013
  5. Yikes. I thought my wisdom teeth fiasco when I was 26 was an awful dental story (impacted became infected became a shiny bruised face with my eye swollen shut became hospitalized for a week became a stomach infection for another week’s hospitalization. How’s that for abridged? I know, you’re probably wishing I’d apply that skill to my blogs I submit to you, right?) Anyhow, I generally prefer a little somethin’ to help me relax prior to a dentist appointment these days, after that experience. I have been putting off filling replacements since last July. Bet you were dying to hear all these dental confessions when you wrote this blog, huh? Well, thanks for inspiring me to call and book an appointment. If you can go that often, I can go once every 6 months, I suppose…


    Comment by papayajambalaya on April 4, 2013
  6. You pour thing. I’ve had the same dentist since I was 7, which is, ummm, a long time. I don’t know what I’ll do when he retires. Don’t even want to think about it.


    Comment by Tamara on April 4, 2013
  7. If you’d been born 30 years ago, you’d have a lovely set of dentures already at your age…no joke! That would suck. :(


    Comment by Amberlea on April 5, 2013
  8. I know you were born 30 years ago, but I think you know what I mean… Hehe!


    Comment by Amberlea on April 5, 2013
  9. OMG! I periodically have dreams about my teeth crumbling. Now I’m scared even more sh*tless that it’s an actual thing. In my dreams though, the crumbling teeth encompass my whole mouth and I can never seem to finger sweep out all of it. I hope yours aren’t that bad!


    Comment by Gamanda on April 8, 2013
  10. [...] I took of myself wearing my SAMCRO t-shirt at the dentist, to instill a little bit of fear into my surprise new dentist. And we’re also not talking about the photo I took of my broken posterior that several of my [...]

    Pingback by What My Best Camera Tells Me - Cheaper Than Therapy | Cheaper Than Therapy on April 9, 2013
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