In an age
where we fawn over firefighters, police and military personnel, sometime we
neglect to give enough recognition to those people who choose to be in sucky
professions for the public good. I mean,
when was the last time you ran out of your house and gave the garbage man a
hug, huh? I mean he or she works hard, does his job and goes home to his family
just like the rest of us. Do you see him
being given standing ovations at kids’ career days? Nah, just does his job and
bless him for that.
The same
goes for a profession from which I needed a service recently, Dentists. There I was, crying like a baby, writhing in
pain, anguishing in agony and longing for death…a bit melodramatic? To paraphrase
the immortal philosopher Bugs Bunny, “You don’t know me very well, do you?” My
wife, who is the smart one, decided that perhaps I should visit someone who has
been medically trained to heal the situation rather than just complaining about
it and not actually doing anything to correct the situation. Well, heck, first
time for everything.
It should
be noted that I am extremely terrified of dentists. I realize that this isn’t a
unique opinion and that others have the same irrational fear, and for that reason
these dentists deserve respect for willingly choosing a profession that will
draw ire and discontentment from certain portions of the populous. Then again, if they are true sadists that
enjoy watching people cower in fear and also enjoy poking people with sharp
implements, well, good choice I guess.
So I took my wife’s advice and showed up at the dentists…awaiting my
doom.
The
initial few minutes of the exam were pretty standard. The nice lady with the clipboard and a few
instruments of torture was supposed to ask me how often I brushed and flossed
and I was supposed to lie to the best of my ability. Right…done. Now we get to do some (count ‘em 16!) x-rays.
So I first don a flak jacket from WW2, then the assistant puts a device in my
mouth and I am told to bite down (using my teeth that really hurt, otherwise I
would not be there) on the instrument designed to provide torture and frame the
teeth for the best angle of x-ray machine. Right…done.
Now comes
the time when the dentist tells me that he looked at my teeth and that it wasn’t
good. Apparently years of dental neglect and avoidance of dentists has had a
negative impact on my teeth. Who knew?! Now, it had been a while since my last
dentist appointment…I believe the Earth had just cooled and my distant
relatives were just crawling out of the primordial ooze…so the technology had
changed. No longer was a civil war bullet used to bite down upon while a
dentist using a saw to remove part of ones jaw for a minor toothache. No longer was an ‘automatic drill’ simple a
wooden device hooked up to a big wheel upon which sat a child rotating pedals
with his feet to generate power. Again…who
knew?!
Well, the
dentist found the problem, God (Buddha, the Maker, Fisher Price…whomever) had
given me teeth in the first place, which was the crucial mistake. So this kind
dentist and his assistants and hygienists alleviated the pain and put in place
an action plan to keep me away from them (which admittedly should be the
overall goal). But it is these people
that I salute because they purposely pursued this profession. This was not some drunken decision one night
that turned into a couple of months of training then being release into the
populous. No, this was their choice. And
despite my overall penchant for complaining, thank goodness they did.
So go forth, Dr. Giggles and…
Be Good or Be Good At It!
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