Allright. So you know, I went to the dentist yesterday. The whole place is Asian---very clean---they are always early rather than late, and they never really know what I am saying. I think they get the idea, but I sure do know that they don't speak English as well as I do. I walk in and the dentist himself is behind the counter like he is the receptionist and he just jerks his head to the side as if to say, "we're ready for you now." The dental assistants are all ladies---really pretty ones---and they all wear pink uniforms. They always smile and never make sense to me. For some reason I trust this Asian dentist (not meaning to sound racist at all) more than some American dentist. I have had so many problems with dentists in my past and they have all been Americans. I have actually only had one really good American one and he was a Mormon (not that that matters, really). I have had dentists make me wait all day long as I am rolling around in pain, I have had that several times, actually. I have never in my life had a dentist waiting for me behind the counter completely ready for my arrival himself and so stinking prompt that he finishes early and does an outstanding job at that.
I tried yesterday to be completely calm and disciplined for their sake. How odd it is to be working in someone's mouth. I always loved pulling teeth when I was young---my best friend's mom used to tell me I would make an excellent dentist. I still think I would.
So, I just sat there and opened my mouth and let them do their thing. It was a bigger procedure than I thought. I have to go back in two weeks to get it finished! I couldn't understand him really, when he explained the procedure to me, but for now I have a temporary crown---and get this---he told me if it falls out for some reason to come back in and they will cement it in again! What fun! I am reluctant to chew on that side, as you may well imagine. The worst part of the whole thing was when he put gauze in my mouth. I hate gauze. It is another one of my Room 101's. He put the stuff in my mouth for some reason (I was numbed so I could not feel my ear even) and when I heard him say "bite down" I did not obey. Then he said it louder and I knew I had to do it because perhaps he had something really bleeding in there. It was horrible. It is worse than the needle with the novacaine, worse than that sharp pinch in your jaw, worse than accidentally feeling the drill. I think Dear Sir feels my pain. I tried to explain it to him yesterday as he was getting in the car to go back to work (he came to hold down the fort while I went---bless him!) and he just shook me off and drove away. You see the worst in people I guess, when you mention their Room 101's.