Drill, Baby, Drill

During my days as an impoverished graduate student, my dental care consisted solely of brushings with worn-out toothbrushes and a bi-annual floss. Now that I am gainfully employed, however, I took advantage of the dental insurance provided by my company to go in for a cleaning.

I'd had a cleaning done about six months before this because I got a great deal from one of those daily coupon promotions. The lady was primarily a cosmetic dentist, but I figured a cleaning was a cleaning. She detected several cavities and receding gums and recommended nearly $10,000 worth of orthodontia. Yikes. Back in Visalia, I'd go to dentists who were also family friends and were trustworthy; this was the first time I'd ever had cause to doubt a medical professional. It was odd thinking that the same practices one must watch out for at the mechanic were in practice here.  (Do I REALLY need a new carburetor? What the hell IS a carburetor?)

Per Ed's recommendation, I went to zocdoc.com to find a doctor and dentist. This website is great: You enter your address and what you're looking for and you can view a page of doctors near you, each doctor's credentials, reviews from patients who have visited, etc. (Zocdoc will also call you to apologize if your appointment has to be changed and offer you a $15 Amazon gift card. This has happened to me twice, and I'm always secretly glad to be thus "inconvenienced.") My dentist turned out to be wonderful, and I liked him and his whole staff very much even after they broke the news that I had four cavities, one of which was huge and all of which needed attention.

I left work an hour and a half early yesterday to get this done. Their office, like many doctors/dentists who have private practices in New York, is not only in an apartment building, it is actually a rented apartment unit! They've artfully covered up the bathtub with some sliding wood panels and, I assume, gotten rid of the kitchen appliances, because it looks pretty much like an office, though it's funny getting one's teeth filled in what was meant to be a bedroom.

I'm never eating another Jolly Rancher...

I required double anesthesia on one side and was numbed in a total of three places. The procedure was unpleasant, but not painful (well, not really). I ended up being spectacularly numb in some areas, a numbness that lingered for more than 7 hours afterward; on the left, the side that needed two shots, I couldn't feel anything from the tip of my chin to just under my eye. In most places, you can leave the dentists and go right into the privacy of your car, where you can drool to your heart's content. I, however, had to walk through the lobby of the building, where an old woman cheerfully asked me if it was still raining. "I own oh, I havva bun ou'ide," I replied, and she walked away looking disconcerted. I had 10 blocks to walk after that, and I used a paper towel to dab at my lips every half block or so, just to be sure I wasn't making a scene. Pre-appointment, I'd optimistically thought of some errands I could do on the way home and made a to-do list of chores around the apartment for the evening. Fat chance. This was clearly not the time to go buy a new circular knitting needle from Michael's. Instead, I read trashy magazines at home and watched an entire season of Breaking Bad. I am resolved to brush much more thoroughly from now on.