Five Things - Dentist Edition

Today, I feel this huge sense of responsibility to blog about Easter and resurrection and things of significance like that. But instead, we're going to talk about the dentist. (I know, right?)

So you remember, of course, the incident I had with the dentist a few weeks ago, in preparation for my crown.

You'll be glad to know that eventually, I went to get the permanent crown - a gorgeous, whitish porcelain thing. It's probably the most expensive thing I've ever worn, and I adore it. (Plus, I'm glad to be able to chew on the right side again.)

Fresh off a renewed positive experience with dental procedures, I have some advice for those who might be apprehensive about this kind of work. We'll just call it:

Five Things to Remember at the Dentist

1) You're going to feel super vulnerable while he digs around in your mouth. But for the sake of his focus, try to appear peaceful and fearless. Hold still, and refrain from fidgeting.

2) Forget all about Rule #1. 

Consider this: No matter how much you don't fidget, fuss, or wiggle, you're still vulnerable with your head back and your neck exposed. This means no matter how still you are, he's bound to notice your carotid artery, which will be going wild. (Touch your artery while he's turned around to get more Novocaine, and you'll see what I mean.) The point is, no matter how still you are. . . the gig's up.

3) When the dentist tells you a temporary crown is fragile, believe him. Follow the rules: No crunchy or sticky food. How easy is that?

But when you don't listen, and you chip that blasted temporary piece -- don't be scared to confess. After all, you're not the first person who's ever broken the rules. If he's a good dentist, he'll ask if you're in pain and blame the plastic crown instead of lecturing you.

4) During the final crowning, be honest when the dentist asks if something feels sensitive. This isn't the time for courage! In the dentist's chair, sensitivity turns to pain. Be willing to ask for narcotics; there's no shame in being numb (literally) up to your eyeballs.

Nor is there any shame in having one numb eyeball wandering aimlessly, like a balloon in a windstorm. This is a natural response to three shots of Novocaine. (Don't ask me how I know this.)

5) Pay up-front for your services. That way, no matter how expensive the work is, you'll feel like it was free when you walk out with your porcelain treasure.

Don't you feel better now?

Happy to be of Service,

Becki*

Photo credit: Crown