An open letter to the dentist who I hate.
Dear Dentist;
Eat shit. Why are you such a creepy person that you would go into this field in the first place? Jeeby-creeby, it's not like your profession allows you to openly hurt me, so why take all these underhanded ways to do so?
First off, as much as I love having half my face feel like a piece of limp meat, you need to work on which piece of the face you numb. You numbed my tongue just to get me to wobble it around dangerously while you had a grinder in my mouth. Just leave my tongue alone so that I don't accidentally wander into a drill or something and splatter blood over your wonderful wallpaper. I love the wallpaper, by the way. Did you and every other dentist I've gone to go on the same day they were throwing it out? It's exactly similar to my old psychiatrist's office. Very mellow, little flowers.
Back to the anesthetic: Decide on one option...Either pack enough punch to make me NOT feel you drilling into the center of my tooth-nerves, or lighten it up so that it doesn't STILL feel completely dead an hour later. I'm not even starting to feel.
Second, what's up with the chair? Shouldn't there be one operating height? Yesterday, the hygienist was resting her breasts on my forearm; today, you poked me in the shoulder with your penis. I'm pretty sure that the two of you knew what you were doing, you sick tweeds.
Third, your ceiling sucks. I know I'm not meant to be entertained, but you could at least pretend that 90% of the time I spend at your office will be spent staring upwards. I spend 4 minutes in the lobby, I get a magazine; I spend 20 minutes waiting for some resin to set, I get the corrugated cardboard tiles I used to count in math class. The least you could do is to put a mirror on top of the light so that I can watch you.
What's up with that? Can I not watch what you're doing in my mouth? I know you said you saw some decay, but when I was told there might be a tumor in my brain, I got to see it. You have the x-ray behind my back, waving it around to the receptionist, the hygienist, the guy who brings in the water jugs, but I don't get to see it? Maybe you've made this up? How am I supposed to trust you? You get paid to point at watermarks and operate.
You took my glasses before I could even see the tools that were entering my mouth...I had a difficult enough time trying to see if the implement you were waving around was a band saw or a fish sandwich when they were just in my mouth, now I can't tell if you're trying to put an elephant penis on my chin. I know that you used two sorts of vacuum tubes...They managed to keep my non-numbed side so dry that I couldn't tell which side you were operating on, BUT you managed to spray me with my own saliva with a mis-aimed grind. Hey, Hygienist! The tube sucks up WATER! No water should escape your mighty vacuum tube! If the dentist hits a well, suck it up instead of letting it get sprayed up my nose!
Why must there always be at least 5 implements in my mouth? Figure out a way to hold ALL your tools by yourself. Definitely don't end up leaving things on my lip...I lose track of 'em. Either that, or they end up doing a little hardware humping in my mouth and birth more and more tools to tangle my tongue. I'm cutting you down to 3 tools...Mirror, drill, and vacuum. Swap the drill out for the goop-applicator. Then take EVERYTHING out for that little UV light.
Why do you cover the UV light with a little yellow shield? I can see the reflection of the light, and it's not guarding my eyes from dangerous light waves. Why do you get to be shielded?
I know that there must be other things to do (like checking out your porno stash), but why don't you warn me when you leave the room. "I'll be back in 5 minutes", "FIRE!" or "The receptionist and I will get right back after we finish making out." A little courtesy to know if I should close my mouth a little and try to sneak a little saliva back into my mouth before your Spit-Nazi comes back with the big vacuum, or if I should sit perfectly still while the plastic hardens on my gums.
I believe I've questioned all of the actions I found shady, so get back to planning...You'll have to disguise your torture methods a little better the next time I come in.
Peter.
Eat shit. Why are you such a creepy person that you would go into this field in the first place? Jeeby-creeby, it's not like your profession allows you to openly hurt me, so why take all these underhanded ways to do so?
First off, as much as I love having half my face feel like a piece of limp meat, you need to work on which piece of the face you numb. You numbed my tongue just to get me to wobble it around dangerously while you had a grinder in my mouth. Just leave my tongue alone so that I don't accidentally wander into a drill or something and splatter blood over your wonderful wallpaper. I love the wallpaper, by the way. Did you and every other dentist I've gone to go on the same day they were throwing it out? It's exactly similar to my old psychiatrist's office. Very mellow, little flowers.
Back to the anesthetic: Decide on one option...Either pack enough punch to make me NOT feel you drilling into the center of my tooth-nerves, or lighten it up so that it doesn't STILL feel completely dead an hour later. I'm not even starting to feel.
Second, what's up with the chair? Shouldn't there be one operating height? Yesterday, the hygienist was resting her breasts on my forearm; today, you poked me in the shoulder with your penis. I'm pretty sure that the two of you knew what you were doing, you sick tweeds.
Third, your ceiling sucks. I know I'm not meant to be entertained, but you could at least pretend that 90% of the time I spend at your office will be spent staring upwards. I spend 4 minutes in the lobby, I get a magazine; I spend 20 minutes waiting for some resin to set, I get the corrugated cardboard tiles I used to count in math class. The least you could do is to put a mirror on top of the light so that I can watch you.
What's up with that? Can I not watch what you're doing in my mouth? I know you said you saw some decay, but when I was told there might be a tumor in my brain, I got to see it. You have the x-ray behind my back, waving it around to the receptionist, the hygienist, the guy who brings in the water jugs, but I don't get to see it? Maybe you've made this up? How am I supposed to trust you? You get paid to point at watermarks and operate.
You took my glasses before I could even see the tools that were entering my mouth...I had a difficult enough time trying to see if the implement you were waving around was a band saw or a fish sandwich when they were just in my mouth, now I can't tell if you're trying to put an elephant penis on my chin. I know that you used two sorts of vacuum tubes...They managed to keep my non-numbed side so dry that I couldn't tell which side you were operating on, BUT you managed to spray me with my own saliva with a mis-aimed grind. Hey, Hygienist! The tube sucks up WATER! No water should escape your mighty vacuum tube! If the dentist hits a well, suck it up instead of letting it get sprayed up my nose!
Why must there always be at least 5 implements in my mouth? Figure out a way to hold ALL your tools by yourself. Definitely don't end up leaving things on my lip...I lose track of 'em. Either that, or they end up doing a little hardware humping in my mouth and birth more and more tools to tangle my tongue. I'm cutting you down to 3 tools...Mirror, drill, and vacuum. Swap the drill out for the goop-applicator. Then take EVERYTHING out for that little UV light.
Why do you cover the UV light with a little yellow shield? I can see the reflection of the light, and it's not guarding my eyes from dangerous light waves. Why do you get to be shielded?
I know that there must be other things to do (like checking out your porno stash), but why don't you warn me when you leave the room. "I'll be back in 5 minutes", "FIRE!" or "The receptionist and I will get right back after we finish making out." A little courtesy to know if I should close my mouth a little and try to sneak a little saliva back into my mouth before your Spit-Nazi comes back with the big vacuum, or if I should sit perfectly still while the plastic hardens on my gums.
I believe I've questioned all of the actions I found shady, so get back to planning...You'll have to disguise your torture methods a little better the next time I come in.
Peter.