My teeth are sobbing

I started this at the dentist’s office, waiting for the dentist to arrive after having suffered perhaps 80 minutes of jaw-droppingly exquisite agony at the capable hands of the dental hygienist, and having departed the premises am now finishing this post in the parking lot.

After speaking with (and being treated by) the aforementioned professionals, helpful tips come to mind:

• Floss.
• Get your teeth cleaned regularly.
• Use an electric toothbrush.
• If you misplace the charger for your electric toothbrush, locate it and continue using the electric toothbrush.
• Actually floss. No, really.
• When the dental professional says “open wide”, be aware that actually you can open wider than that, as he or she may shortly demonstrate to you with the aid of a tiny medieval torture device, I mean dental scraper. Or pick. Or miniature pickaxe. It’s something small and superbly sharp and then my teeth were all wailing like 30 minutes later.

Apparently I continue to have inflammation issues, so the lesson learned is that depending on how the next six months go for me, teeth-wise (or gum-wise), I may next time have (instead of a standard cleaning) a “deep cleaning.” I’m not sure I grasp that, other than that the “deep” to me suggests somehow more pain than the simple “cleaning” I just experienced. Perhaps they take you outside and fasten each tooth individually to a pickup truck and then having extracted it, polish it off and reinsert it using hot glue. It’s not clear to me.

OK. I am now off to locate Lily and the small people and subsequently (the idea was) to locate us all some dinner. Happy Dentistry Appreciation Day, everyone.