Deep Pockets Chapter 2

I bolstered my strength with a nutritious breakfast and braced myself for providing another free therapy session at my dental appointment this week. My hygienist did not disappoint. Just after I settled into my comfy chair in a zero-gravity position, she said, “So, where did I leave off with what’s going on with my mother? Oh…I saw you in July. I had just moved her from Alaska to Assisted Living here near me. Well after that, I had to move my mother to Memory Care in Emeryville. Here’s what happened….”

I was hoping there would not be a Chapter 2, but here we are.

I may have been distracted by her story or my mind wandered but I didn’t follow her instructions to spit or slurp or whatever I was supposed to do with the little suction tube so I dribbled saliva and gunk down the side of my neck on my cashmere sweater. “Oopsie! Let's wipe that up!” 

For the 114th time I got lessons on how to brush better. (yes, I'm counting)

For the 114th time I got instructed how to remove plaque. Sometimes I wonder if this is really within our control. Or is it like trying not to get your shoes dirty? You'll never succeed, right?

I was reminded to schedule an appointment to replace a crown.

“Does the scraping noise bother you?”

My only opportunity for self expression was when the hygienist asked me why I don’t want her to polish or floss and I could actually speak. 

“So I can get out of here faster.”