Two blogs ago I dragged you on a journey up my colon from which I trust you all returned unharmed. I must again ask you to join me in a visit to another one of my body cavities. This time it's only my mouth. Specifically, there's a few things about my teeth and gums I would like to discuss. It's certainly not as offensive as discussing my colonoscopy. (The irony of this is that my mouth and the words which come out of it have been much more offensive to people than anything that has come out of my ass).
Please don't think now that I'm 50 these blogs are turning into a medical journal to chronicle my various doctors appointments. It's just coincidence that my dentist appointment was a week after my colonoscopy. I had no idea that as the hygienist was cleaning my teeth a blog would start uncontrollably forming in my head. That's how it seems to happen with me, when suddenly something becomes blog-worthy.
My dentist's office is in the 450 Sutter Building. If an earthquake knocks it down, half the dentists in San Francisco will be knocked down with it. It would deliver a fatal blow to oral care in the city, leaving us with even less dentists than there are in England. I sat with my legs elevated and my head tilted back in the high-tech automated examination chair that looked like it was designed by NASA. I imagined the earthquake flinging me and the chair out of the big tinted window, and a parachute built into the chair opens to glide me safely down from the 21st floor as all the other patients in cheaper chairs from different offices zoom passed me and crash onto the sidewalk below.
Everything in Dr. C's office is custom-built and state-of-the-art. The sleek, long-armed X-ray machine instantaneously develops the images of my teeth onto a flat-screen attached to the wall, and I am given a power-point presentation of my decay. The expensive machine emits much lower doses of radiation than the big old clunky ones, but all the female employees of child-bearing age still run out of the room before the X-rays are taken. Even with the leadspread always covering me, the amount of radiation from all the dental X-rays I've been exposed to in my lifetime must by now equal the amount released by one of the reactors at the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant after the tsunami. Luckily my sperm is just for show anyway, so I nonchalantly sit back as the machine zaps me.
The office has been renovated twice since I started coming here when I first moved to San Francisco 17 years ago. I met Dr. C. on the beach as he was jogging in a Speedo, which is the way all his patients wished they met him. I was even more under-dressed for our introduction, only wearing my headphones. We started talking and I found out he was a dentist and he found out I needed a dentist, which for both of us immediately cancelled out ever having sex with each other.
He is Greek and so good-looking that I'm sure at one point he had to decide whether to be a dentist or a movie star. His eyes are the blue that you wish the water in The Bay would be, and his hair is the blackest thing on a sunny beach. And no matter how long you went to him as your dentist your smile would never be as beautiful as his. Some beautiful smiles are merely white blinds that hide what's going on inside, but his smile glows from a genuine warmth and generous spirit. He could be much more intimidating to people if he chose to be, but instead he's made himself as welcoming as possible. After our conversation ended and he jogged away that day on the beach, I watched as he stopped to speak to someone he knew every 50 feet. Each person got the same big hug from him no matter what they looked like. An old man in a thong and a pale obese man in a sarong got the same amount of attention that he had given to a tanned body builder. I remember being impressed by it back then, and I'm still amazed at how effortlessly he can speak to all different kinds of people and make each one feel special. He treats his patients more like guests and his workplace more like home. Understanding this about Dr. C. helps to explain why his is the only dental office in the whole building that serves biscuits, baklava, cookies, and crumpets along with fruit juices,coffee, and tea in the waiting area. Everything else about his office is about the betterment of your teeth except for this last minute sabotaging right before you are seen, which I always fall victim to.
My dentist's office is in the 450 Sutter Building. If an earthquake knocks it down, half the dentists in San Francisco will be knocked down with it. It would deliver a fatal blow to oral care in the city, leaving us with even less dentists than there are in England. I sat with my legs elevated and my head tilted back in the high-tech automated examination chair that looked like it was designed by NASA. I imagined the earthquake flinging me and the chair out of the big tinted window, and a parachute built into the chair opens to glide me safely down from the 21st floor as all the other patients in cheaper chairs from different offices zoom passed me and crash onto the sidewalk below.
Everything in Dr. C's office is custom-built and state-of-the-art. The sleek, long-armed X-ray machine instantaneously develops the images of my teeth onto a flat-screen attached to the wall, and I am given a power-point presentation of my decay. The expensive machine emits much lower doses of radiation than the big old clunky ones, but all the female employees of child-bearing age still run out of the room before the X-rays are taken. Even with the leadspread always covering me, the amount of radiation from all the dental X-rays I've been exposed to in my lifetime must by now equal the amount released by one of the reactors at the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant after the tsunami. Luckily my sperm is just for show anyway, so I nonchalantly sit back as the machine zaps me.
The office has been renovated twice since I started coming here when I first moved to San Francisco 17 years ago. I met Dr. C. on the beach as he was jogging in a Speedo, which is the way all his patients wished they met him. I was even more under-dressed for our introduction, only wearing my headphones. We started talking and I found out he was a dentist and he found out I needed a dentist, which for both of us immediately cancelled out ever having sex with each other.
He is Greek and so good-looking that I'm sure at one point he had to decide whether to be a dentist or a movie star. His eyes are the blue that you wish the water in The Bay would be, and his hair is the blackest thing on a sunny beach. And no matter how long you went to him as your dentist your smile would never be as beautiful as his. Some beautiful smiles are merely white blinds that hide what's going on inside, but his smile glows from a genuine warmth and generous spirit. He could be much more intimidating to people if he chose to be, but instead he's made himself as welcoming as possible. After our conversation ended and he jogged away that day on the beach, I watched as he stopped to speak to someone he knew every 50 feet. Each person got the same big hug from him no matter what they looked like. An old man in a thong and a pale obese man in a sarong got the same amount of attention that he had given to a tanned body builder. I remember being impressed by it back then, and I'm still amazed at how effortlessly he can speak to all different kinds of people and make each one feel special. He treats his patients more like guests and his workplace more like home. Understanding this about Dr. C. helps to explain why his is the only dental office in the whole building that serves biscuits, baklava, cookies, and crumpets along with fruit juices,coffee, and tea in the waiting area. Everything else about his office is about the betterment of your teeth except for this last minute sabotaging right before you are seen, which I always fall victim to.
Every time I get my teeth cleaned by a different hygienist, I have to sit through her shock when she rolls back my lips and sees my receding gum line. Emily, who I was seeing for the first time, is too young to have any of the teeth problems she sees in patients my age. " Wow Mr. Glassman. Has anyone spoken with you about your gums? Are they very sensitive?" she asked me with great concern.
" Physically or emotionally? " I ask back " They're only sensitive when people gasp at them."
" I didn't mean they're all bad. It's only in some spots," she quickly added, trying to lessen the blow.
" Don't worry," I've been getting that reaction for years," I smiled up at her.
" Has anyone ever spoken to you about dental floss?"
" Is it something new on the market?"
She looked at me in disbelief for a moment then smiled when she realized I was joking. Poor Emily. She was new and so enthusiastic. As she gave her flossing speech, I could see her belief in the power of it, and she wanted me to believe in it too. But she had no idea how many hygienists before her had tried for decades to get me to floss. It's like hearing about safe sex. I've already heard all there is to know about floss and condoms, and I've obviously made my decision not to listen. No amount of educating me seems to make a difference. I am thoroughly education-proof on these two subjects. There are the condom wearers and the non-wearers, and there are the flossers and the non-flossers.This is not to say that condoms and floss are that much alike. One could save your life and the other can only save a tooth or two. The one thing they do have in common is their unimportance in my life. To be honest, I can explain why I don't use condoms much more easily than why I don't bother to floss. For some inextricable reason I've not been able to find the two extra minutes a day it would take for the past 30 years.
To make Emily happy I promised I would try harder. Proud of herself, she moved on to scraping the tartar from what she described as deep pockets, which always makes me think of pants. Along with the tartar she scraped out a remnant of food, which I insisted was baklava. After all the scraping and polishing was finished, Emily went out of the room and Dr. C came in. He always looks just as good covered up in a shirt and tie as he did in a Speedo.
I sprang up from the examination chair with my spit bib still on." Hi Honey. Great to see you, " I said as we hugged each other. " Don't be mad at me but I think I frightened Emily with my gums."
" I wouldn't be surprised if she quits after seeing them, Gary."
" I'm beginning to question if I even need gums. Look at this gorgeous smile still, " I said pointing with both hands at my mouth as I flashed him a big one." That's without ever flossing."
" I will never understand why some of my patients refuse to floss."
" I am not refusing, I'm forgetting." I corrected him.
" It's the biggest mystery to me how that happens."
" Well it's the biggest mystery to me why you serve baked goods in a dentist office."
" Leave my baked goods alone. That's how my mother raised me. When people come over, you give them food."
" I can't leave them alone. That's the problem. Emily pulled out a chunk of baklava between my teeth. I was going to make her keep it so I could show you."
He rolled his eyes but couldn't help laughing. " Come on, let's see what's going on in your mouth," he said, motioning for me to sit in the exam chair again.
He looked at the X-rays then did a few tests in my mouth with a sharp stainless steel pic. Even though I love to see him, having him examine my teeth is when I always get the bad news. It is usually a bad sign when he spends more time on one tooth than on the others, and when he asks for more X-rays it is even a worse sign. And when he says he has to show the X-ray to the periodontist, I know I'm really screwed. Even with the $2000 my dental plan gives me every 12 months, I still usually wind up owing money by the end of the year.
By some stroke of luck, 10 months have passed already and I only spent $500 so far. I never had so much left so far into the year. I was waiting for him to ask Emily for more X-rays on something but he said that my teeth look fine.
" That means I've got $1500 of insurance still left," I raised my head and excitedly said.
" That's a good amount for an emergency if one happens in the next 2 months. You never know, Gary."
" Screw the emergency! I'm going on a shopping spree!" I swung my legs off the elevated chair and sat facing him. "What can I get for $1500? Tell me, tell me," I said giddily as I quickly tapped my feet and clapped my hands.
We decided the best idea was to spend it on a new bonding procedure that fills in any gaps where the gum line is too low. I had until December 31st to spend it, and I was determined to use every dollar I had coming to me. " Try to get it as close to the fifteen hundred as possible. If it goes over a little I'll take care of it. Just don't let it go under." The secretary calculated how many appointments I would need and then scheduled them. I usually only take the 8:00 AM ones because of my work schedule but I had to take whatever times were available to squeeze in the number we needed before the end of the year.
The secretary called out to me just as I was leaving the table with the baked goods and heading for the door. " Gary, we forgot! When do you want your next cleaning appointment!"
I turned around to face her with a huge slice of baklava in one hand and some crumpets in the other and two almond biscottis in my chest pocket of my scrub top. I looked down at all the sweets I was carrying and then back at her. " Probably in five minutes!"
" Don't worry," I've been getting that reaction for years," I smiled up at her.
" Has anyone ever spoken to you about dental floss?"
" Is it something new on the market?"
She looked at me in disbelief for a moment then smiled when she realized I was joking. Poor Emily. She was new and so enthusiastic. As she gave her flossing speech, I could see her belief in the power of it, and she wanted me to believe in it too. But she had no idea how many hygienists before her had tried for decades to get me to floss. It's like hearing about safe sex. I've already heard all there is to know about floss and condoms, and I've obviously made my decision not to listen. No amount of educating me seems to make a difference. I am thoroughly education-proof on these two subjects. There are the condom wearers and the non-wearers, and there are the flossers and the non-flossers.This is not to say that condoms and floss are that much alike. One could save your life and the other can only save a tooth or two. The one thing they do have in common is their unimportance in my life. To be honest, I can explain why I don't use condoms much more easily than why I don't bother to floss. For some inextricable reason I've not been able to find the two extra minutes a day it would take for the past 30 years.
To make Emily happy I promised I would try harder. Proud of herself, she moved on to scraping the tartar from what she described as deep pockets, which always makes me think of pants. Along with the tartar she scraped out a remnant of food, which I insisted was baklava. After all the scraping and polishing was finished, Emily went out of the room and Dr. C came in. He always looks just as good covered up in a shirt and tie as he did in a Speedo.
I sprang up from the examination chair with my spit bib still on." Hi Honey. Great to see you, " I said as we hugged each other. " Don't be mad at me but I think I frightened Emily with my gums."
" I wouldn't be surprised if she quits after seeing them, Gary."
" I'm beginning to question if I even need gums. Look at this gorgeous smile still, " I said pointing with both hands at my mouth as I flashed him a big one." That's without ever flossing."
" I will never understand why some of my patients refuse to floss."
" I am not refusing, I'm forgetting." I corrected him.
" It's the biggest mystery to me how that happens."
" Well it's the biggest mystery to me why you serve baked goods in a dentist office."
" Leave my baked goods alone. That's how my mother raised me. When people come over, you give them food."
" I can't leave them alone. That's the problem. Emily pulled out a chunk of baklava between my teeth. I was going to make her keep it so I could show you."
He rolled his eyes but couldn't help laughing. " Come on, let's see what's going on in your mouth," he said, motioning for me to sit in the exam chair again.
He looked at the X-rays then did a few tests in my mouth with a sharp stainless steel pic. Even though I love to see him, having him examine my teeth is when I always get the bad news. It is usually a bad sign when he spends more time on one tooth than on the others, and when he asks for more X-rays it is even a worse sign. And when he says he has to show the X-ray to the periodontist, I know I'm really screwed. Even with the $2000 my dental plan gives me every 12 months, I still usually wind up owing money by the end of the year.
By some stroke of luck, 10 months have passed already and I only spent $500 so far. I never had so much left so far into the year. I was waiting for him to ask Emily for more X-rays on something but he said that my teeth look fine.
" That means I've got $1500 of insurance still left," I raised my head and excitedly said.
" That's a good amount for an emergency if one happens in the next 2 months. You never know, Gary."
" Screw the emergency! I'm going on a shopping spree!" I swung my legs off the elevated chair and sat facing him. "What can I get for $1500? Tell me, tell me," I said giddily as I quickly tapped my feet and clapped my hands.
We decided the best idea was to spend it on a new bonding procedure that fills in any gaps where the gum line is too low. I had until December 31st to spend it, and I was determined to use every dollar I had coming to me. " Try to get it as close to the fifteen hundred as possible. If it goes over a little I'll take care of it. Just don't let it go under." The secretary calculated how many appointments I would need and then scheduled them. I usually only take the 8:00 AM ones because of my work schedule but I had to take whatever times were available to squeeze in the number we needed before the end of the year.
The secretary called out to me just as I was leaving the table with the baked goods and heading for the door. " Gary, we forgot! When do you want your next cleaning appointment!"
I turned around to face her with a huge slice of baklava in one hand and some crumpets in the other and two almond biscottis in my chest pocket of my scrub top. I looked down at all the sweets I was carrying and then back at her. " Probably in five minutes!"
I really loved this one . Your writing is definitely becoming more and more beautiful. I can't wait to see what's going on around Gary . Rather then these peeks inside him
ReplyDeleteWhat team does he play on? MINE :)) I love Greek men
ReplyDelete1. Either you have invented a new word, or the word TEETH is misspelled in the title.
ReplyDelete2. I don't floss either (unless there's a pop corn hull stuck inbetween my teeth and my tongue starts to cramp from trying to dislodge it) The second I put a string of floss between my teeth BLOOD starts to pour out. WHY WOULD I VOLUNTARILY DO THIS????????
I thought my dentist was just grand for giving roses. I might have to change dentists though because roses die after just a few days whereas I could carry baklava calories on my thighs for years (plus I second Yvette's response.) As a dental flosser I have to get on my pulpit and preach. If you floss regularly the bleeding stops, it prevents heart disease and contributes to good breath. If you want to smell my breath as proof, just ask. The same goes for condoms. It's not just some old wives tale that people who use condoms have heavenly breath (?!?). Wow, the view from this pulpit is spectacular! Now I see why so many people are so righteous. BTW if you have trouble using the whole $1500 I have no issues with donning a fake beard and pretending to be you because I need my teeth bleached badly (thanks to red wine which was probably invented by dentists so that people would come to them with dingy teeth). I tried really hard to read this with a critical eye so I could give you some negative feedback but honestly, keep 'em coming because they are clever and entertaining. Not everyone can turn a trip to the dentist into a story.
ReplyDeleteWho is this Maundonna because I think I'm in love.
ReplyDeleteeeO- I'm trying to show every side of me possible. I'm finding sides I didn't even know I had. Thanks for the compliment on the writing. I'm starting to know what should stay and what should go, and it takes a few versions until it fits me comfortably. Love you-Gary
ReplyDeleteyvette- you're definitely not going to find the man of your dreams in any of my blogs. Love you-Gary
ReplyDeleteBro M- 1.Teath by chance reads just like Teeth, so I combined The topic of Teeth and Tea& Crumpets into one word. They allow that in England.
ReplyDelete2. It's the dental version of cutting. Ironically, the more you lash out at gums, the healthy they become. I've heard the bleeding stops, but I've never lasted that long to find out.
Ever since I wrote this, I've been flossing. It's disturbing. Hopefully it will stop soon. Love you_Gary
Maundonna- Your lecture is worse than Emily's. Impersonating me is going to take some work. I know you think you're hairy, but I'm a gorilla compared to you. And the stutter has to be like mine too. Good luck!Love you-Gary
ReplyDeleteBro M- I will tell you who she is when I see you on the 11th if she gives me permission.
ReplyDelete