Open wide and buckle up

After over a year of procrastinating to find a new dentist, I finally found one.

Let me just start by saying that typically, I love going to the dentist, and that typically I go every six months. But if things become atypical, and say I get tired of going to my old dentist and having to pay a lot because she is not in my network, and say I have to find a new dentist, and say I get lazy about it, and say I don't find a dentist in time to make my next six month appointment, then seven months becomes, eight months, and eight months becomes well over a year since my last cleaning. Such is the way I run my life, everything is nice and orderly, until something becomes un-nice and disorderly, and then I let it all unravel because in my little brain it becomes easier to let chaos take over than to handle the one little thing and get back to nice and orderly. And this is why, Internets, my e-mail inbox is hovering around 1,000 messages.

But why am I talking about that, when I could be talking about my new dentist. My new dentist, who is the official dentist of the local NFL team (and just because I have the fear that the official dentist of the local NFL team may have some crazy search bot that goes out and combs through the Internets, including tiny insignificant little blogs, for the phrase "official dentist of the blankity blankhawks," I'm going to keep her title cryptic. Because THAT'S WHAT I DO! But seriously, she might have an evil search bot, she's pretty freaking high tech. I guess that's what happens, not when you're the official dentist of the local NFL team, but when your dentist office is located across the street from the galaxy's largest software company).

And now that I've yet again sufficiently proven that I am crazy with my self-inflicted overflowing inbox and fear of search bots, I have a little more crazy to share. But first a little more about the official dentist of the local NFL team. Mr. McMichael has been going to her for over 10 years (and boy howdy does the official dentist of the local NFL team sure luh-uh-uh-uve Mr. McMichael, but something tells me that she luh-uh-uh-uves all of her patients. I seriously had to out-gush her as we were talking about MY boyfriend. I'm not worried or anything, but it was everything I had not to crack up and say to her, um, isn't this the part where we talk about ME and what's going on in MY mouth?), so when I mentioned that I was looking for a dentist he highly recommended her. And I can't complain; it was a good experience. Very unlike any other dental experience I've ever had, it was essentially a mash-up of a spa/night club/Nordstrom's Brass Plum/sorority chapter meeting. All things that of course would make a local NFL team, get down on one knee and pop the question every dentist dreams about hearing ever since they were a precious little dentist, "will you be ours, officially?"

And let's stay there for a moment. When I first heard that she was the official dentist of the local NFL team I was actually listening to the broadcast of the local NFL team on the radio, and I thought, "Hey, that's my new dentist." And then I thought, "Better an NFL team than an NHL team." But then I thought more about it and I thought that having the official dentist of the local NHL team would probably be kind of good, I mean they have a lot of experience with very drastic dental needs. But, we don't have a local NHL team, so I guess I'll have to settle for what can be done to improve the pearly grins of the blankity blankhawks.

So, I'm sitting in the chair, with a high tech camera in my mouth taking several pictures of my teeth, rocking out to Beyonce, when the hygienist comments on my low root to gum ratio. My what to what whatio? And then she's all surprised that no body's ever mentioned it before, and I wanted to say, no body's had a camera in my mouth at that angle before, but I didn't because I had a camera in my mouth. She let me know that because of this low ratio, Doctor (that's what they all call her, no surname, it's just Doctor--maybe they don't use her surname because it's emblazoned on all of their chests with rhinestones? Not joking) will want to see me for cleanings every four months.

Hold up. Every four months?

Now let's go back to the beginning. The part where I said I love going to the dentist. I do. There's something so reassuring about getting everything scraped out and deeply cleaned, but every four months? This is where I channeled my 90-year-old grandpa. My grandpa who believes that the entire medical field is out to gauge the heck out of all of us. My grandpa, who a few Christmases ago, had a tooth die, fall out of his mouth, and then SUPER GLUED IT BACK INTO PLACE all between opening presents and the big family dinner. And the thing is, my grandpa is a self-made multi-millionaire, so it's not that he can't afford it. Internets, Krazy Glue is NOT his only option here, it's that he distrusts the medical profession. He chooses the glue.

But I have a low root to gum ratio, and while cleanings every four months will not improve my ratio (because I asked), it will allow the official dentist of the local NFL team to keep a closer eye on that ratio. And were I my grandpa, I would think that is also what allows them to get paid more. But that certainly couldn't be the motivation. Certainly not when you know that your patient works for said software company with incredible insurance coverage. Only, when I asked Mr. McMichael how often he goes in, he said every four months, but they told him he needed to do that because his gums were recessed and the regular cleaning might help counteract that.

All I know is that I have some work that I need to get done that insurance will mostly cover. And it took me a year to settle on a new dentist. So I'll stick with the official dentist of the local NFL team, but I will not be huffing any of her nitrous oxide lest I get coerced to get myself a nice new set of veneers.

Note to self: Just to be safe, start stocking up on Krazy Glue.