Inadequate

"If suffering brought wisdom,
the dentist’s office would be full of luminous ideas."
~Mason Cooley

{Photo credit: "Say AHHH!" RedChelli76}

Why is it that when I go to the dentist I feel completely inadequate?

I mean...I brush and floss {okay, not as much as I should, but I do} and I use special toothpastes and rinses and vibrating brushes...but every single time I go to get my teeth cleaned I feel that I have the worst looking mouth on the planet. And just about every single time I go I have a new cavity.

Perhaps the enamel on my teeth is exceedingly thin.

Perhaps some over the counter medication I took made the surface of my teeth filled with microscopic holes in which all the bad things get in and can't get out.

Perhaps I overestimate my brushing, flossing and rinsing commitment {that may have some truth}.

Perhaps my teeth are exceedingly large and my jaw is exceedingly small {that definitely has truth since I had to have many teeth pulled just to make room for them to all play nice when I had my braces...and they still pushed back and aren't 100% straight much to the chagrin of my parents}.

I hate going to the dentist.

I hate the smell that greets me when I open the office door.
I hate the sounds of drills and suction tubes.
I hate trying to keep my dignity while drooling on myself while wearing a paper bib.
I hate it when they strike up a conversation with you that requires more than just a head nod when I have all sorts of appendages and tubes and hands stuck in my mouth.

Don't get me wrong...I know that it is a necessary thing to being healthy {necessary evil, maybe}. My dentist is a very nice man and my hygienist is sweet. I hate the entire experience nonetheless. If they didn't keep hounding me every six months and call me every week to set up that appointment {that I am adept at dodging since I have caller ID}, and if they didn't just keep persisting by setting up the appointment for me and then sending a remider postcard and phone call, I know I wouldn't go. But I have to be a good role model for my children, right?

When I moved to the area I am now back when I was 9 I had been going to a dentist in another state that gave me laughing gas practically from the moment I walked in the door. My mother never questioned why I never seemed bothered by the visits as other kids undoubtedly were. I can recall the feeling of weightlessness and floating around the room. I actually liked it. {Perhaps they were giving me way more gas than was appropriate for one so young, or the gas is a different kind, because I have never felt that "high" since. Ah...the good old days.}

My uncle was a local dentist in our new town. He was someone I only saw once or twice a year at a family function and was married to my father's sister. So when we moved here, it was obvious that we would be going to him. On my first trip in it was apparent that I had cavities. Lots of them. What wasn't apparent to my mother was what all the screaming coming from the exam room was all about.

My uncle did not believe in laughing gas. In fact, I came to learn that he didn't believe in novocaine either {my mother continued to go see him and never had any anesthesia when she had procedures done, perhaps to make up for my transgressions}.

And here he was coming for my mouth with a drill in his hand.

After a few minutes of wrangling and swearing {under his breath} on his part and dodging and crying {quite boisterously I might add} on my part, he thrust me back out into the waiting room, shoved me toward my mother and loudly professed to all in that room that I was not welcome back there. Ever.

Not that I blame him. But I was not interested in coming back their either, whether they had the latest Highlights issue or not.

So we shopped for other dentists in town before we found my dentist {who incidentally did believe in laughing gas...and novocaine...and letting you listen to headphones with your favorite music turned up loud enough to drown out the sounds of the drill}. And I have been there ever since.

When it came time to choose a dentist for my own children we gave them the choice: go to Dad's dentist or Mom's dentist. Thankfully, they chose the former {because that meant that Dad had the duty to get them there and make the appointments since the relationship was established through him. Brilliant "unwritten" rule.}

And that also meant that I didn't have to be the brave little soldier with my own dental adventures. I just have to be the one to harp on brushing and {ahem} flossing practices.

So I have to go back to have a filling drilled under an existing filling {for the record, this has been happening to me in the last two years... loads of fun to have one old filling cleared out and more drilling and then restructured new filling}. I am sure that my dentist sees me as a renewable resource for him. Which is probably why they have become so efficient in being sure that I set up that next 6 month appointment.

Perhaps they will not be able to find me when I move across town to my new home soon. {Drats. I recall that I told them my new address.}

What areas of your life do you feel that constant nag of inadequacy?
How do you overcome or compensate for those feelings?
Are they real or imagined inadequacies?

Do tell!

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I have to apologize for the "radio silence" of late. Last Friday when the heavy winds made the power flicker, my computer chose that moment to fizzle out. Now I am faced with the "blue screen of death" that won't go away {my computer "guru" says that is not a good sign} and I am not sure when {or if} the machine will be repaired {perhaps there is a new laptop in my future after all}.

I never realized before how essential my computer is to my daily life. There is a big hole where it used to be {literally and figuratively} and I miss it. It also means that it might take me longer to respond to emails, post to my blog, upload photos of all the new jewelry design I have done {including, but not limited to, designs for publications I had hoped to be submitting, Heather Powers' awesome Fun With Focals challenge, Art Bead Scene for October and November and a project that shall remain shrouded in mystery until I can make a big reveal...}

So if you are trying to contact me...keep trying...I can check the email and blog here and there. And I hope to be back at it again soon!

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Check It Out::Serendipity Smiles
Because we can all use a little bit of that!

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Some tortures are physical
And some are mental,
But the one that is both
Is dental.
~Ogden Nash

Enjoy the day!