A Day With The Dentist

This afternoon I visited my dentist's office to get my teeth cleaned, though you would've thought I was on my to Iraq with my negative attitude. I hate dentists: not the people, just the profession. There must be a different way to deal with teeth. In fact, I'll do a google search to validate my point. A dental appointment is never a pleasant experience, so why am I expected to be polite & smile my way through the entire session? I wanna slap the person who came up with these societal non-virtues. But I digress.

What's really bothering me is the neglect I've had for the care of my teeth since childhood. I was a chronic bedwetter, traumatized to the point of poor hygiene habits. I felt such shame about my body I wouldn't take care of myself before going to school. Of course, I blamed my brothas & sistahs for their mistreatment, yet I was unable and/or unwilling to look at the part I played in the situation. Seems the victim role was my calling as an infant, though I have no Oscar to show for it. Whatever.

Part of my early confusion came with certain family members & folks in my hood saying I have a great smile. As an adult someone once remarked about my smile, "its infectious." But when people constantly abuse you with anti-homosexual epithets you feel neither attractive nor valued. Additionally, the prevailing anti-Black images & perspectives in Western society had me feeling my full mouth - now considered "exotic" in the racist fashion industry - was damaged goods. I remember taking a picture in the seventh grade with a female teacher & purposely closing my mouth to make my lips appear thin. Let's just say I had some serious esteem issues from the jump-off.

I don't recall regular dental visits as a child or teenager. Then again, I smoked a lot of weed so my memory is as reliable as Ronald Reagan's. Oh shit, he be dead. Remember when he testified before Congress during the Iran-Contra hearings & when asked about his role in the war he said "I don't remember" about 150 times? You don't remember? I do. The shit I remember after smoking all that weed...sigh, those were the good ole' days...until crack came along & wiped out our community (not to mention the little room I lived in; my room was so small I had to step outside to sneeze).

Ok, so what does all of this back story have to do with today's dental appointment? Deepak Chopra says, "as long as you are a prisoner of your past, you cannot tell yourself a new story." He be deep. Anyway, understanding the way I react to my current reality helps me accept my struggles & appreciate my successes. As much as I like dislike going to the dentist, I can only benefit from a sane perspective. I pray before I go & meditate while sitting in the chair, which, to me, feels like sitting in a torture chamber, though I've never been in a torture chamber but you get the picture, right? Right?

I've been a reluctant, yet consistent patient at the NYU School of Dentistry on & off for well over a year now. I was impressed by the diversity of their staff. Their student-interns are attentive, courteous & prompt. I like that. If I have to wait for more than an hour I'm ready to bounce. If I have to wait for more than 45 minutes I'm ready to bounce. If I have to wait for more than 30 minutes I'm ready to bounce. Okay, I'm impatient. Damn. I don't like making admissions because they trigger my culturally-induced suspicions. As Dave Chapelle told Oprah, "what's a Black man without his paranoia?"

Dave Chapelle has my vote for President of the United States...

My dentist is a pleasant woman of Indian descent. I like her & feel comforted by her gentle disposition. However, she has an annoying habit of asking me if I'm okay - while in the midst of prodding all sides of my mouth with sharp objects that have me feeling like she's doing arthroscopic surgery. For example, I need major cleaning on all quadrants (its a new word I learned & it makes me feel smart), which requires consistent attendance & diligent aftercare. After she numbed my mouth before injecting me with a shot of lidocaine, she said to me, "are you in pain?" I wanted to say, bitch, do you see a smile on my face? But, unlike Don Imus or Isiah Thomas, I'm not down with misogyny.

The session took nearly 90 minutes in total. A couple of times her supervisor came through to give her guidance & point out shortcomings. Its been several hours later & I still feel sore. I did wait a couple of hours, as she suggested, before eating. I went to the Chinese food joint across the street & ordered some sesame tofu, brown rice & broccoli. I have to go back for ongoing treatment (sigh) in 10 days. I hope I show up. Real talk.