Dentist
So I went to the dentist today because once I graduate college, I'm off my mom's insurance so it was just that time I go and make sure my teeth are as pretty as they can be for the kissing of girls. However, it was a bit nerve-racking since I haven't been to the dentist in over a year and a half. So the night before, I spend an extra minute brushing my teeth and gurgling mouthwash.
I go in and things are running pretty smoothly. The assistant dentist says it's not bad for not having gone to see a dentist in so long. I'm pretty proud of myself. At some point during this whole cleaning of teeth business, she walks over to her counter and writes down a note. I ignore this, thinking she's probably writing down something like, "Best teeth eva!!!"
So then the head dentist comes in and looks to see how my teeth are doing. The assistant dentist takes that note and gives it to him. He reads it, says oh, and then looks into my mouth. Then he says he almost missed it. Says he would like to see me in two weeks to check up on it.
I ask him, "OK, so what did I do to myself?"
He says it looks like a bruise between my incisors, inside my mouth. Probably got there by whacking my mouth with a toothbrush. But he doesn't want to take chances (at which point he goes off listing diseases it could be) and would like to see me again. No problem what so ever.
The assistant dentist holds up a mirror for me so I could see this "bruise." Holy shit! How the hell did he almost miss it?! It's like the size of North Dakota (actually 5 mm) underneath my teeth, on the inside. But how, pray tell, can this just be a bruise? I mean, how does one whack the inside of his mouth with a toothbrush hard enough to cause a black and blue bruise?
Sigh. My life is over. I probably have some horrible flesh eating disease inside my mouth. Now no girls will ever want to kiss me. I blame this on Jerry for persuading me that eating raw chocolate chip cookie dough is the best idea ever.
I go in and things are running pretty smoothly. The assistant dentist says it's not bad for not having gone to see a dentist in so long. I'm pretty proud of myself. At some point during this whole cleaning of teeth business, she walks over to her counter and writes down a note. I ignore this, thinking she's probably writing down something like, "Best teeth eva!!!"
So then the head dentist comes in and looks to see how my teeth are doing. The assistant dentist takes that note and gives it to him. He reads it, says oh, and then looks into my mouth. Then he says he almost missed it. Says he would like to see me in two weeks to check up on it.
I ask him, "OK, so what did I do to myself?"
He says it looks like a bruise between my incisors, inside my mouth. Probably got there by whacking my mouth with a toothbrush. But he doesn't want to take chances (at which point he goes off listing diseases it could be) and would like to see me again. No problem what so ever.
The assistant dentist holds up a mirror for me so I could see this "bruise." Holy shit! How the hell did he almost miss it?! It's like the size of North Dakota (actually 5 mm) underneath my teeth, on the inside. But how, pray tell, can this just be a bruise? I mean, how does one whack the inside of his mouth with a toothbrush hard enough to cause a black and blue bruise?
Sigh. My life is over. I probably have some horrible flesh eating disease inside my mouth. Now no girls will ever want to kiss me. I blame this on Jerry for persuading me that eating raw chocolate chip cookie dough is the best idea ever.