Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Torture Chamber

Today we went to the torture chamber dentist for our semi-annual checkup. I actually made it through the entire appointment without a single Xanax.  That's saying a lot considering that 8 years ago they had to give me 6 at a time to get me in the chair.  My husband would drag me into the office, kicking and screaming and crying, "NO!  I don't want to go!  I won't do it!"  They'd ask if I needed drugged and he would promptly beg, PLEASE.  "How much do you weigh?"  Oh, about 300 pounds.  They bought it every time and they'd hand me 6 of those little gems in a paper cup and tell me stick them under my tongue. Next thing I'd remember, it was three days later.  It was great!  Now they just put a weighted vest on me to hold me in the victim's chair and my husband doesn't go.  I'm actually able to drive myself to the office, walk in and announce my presence and sit down.  I still cry when they call my name.  "Bleach blonde - let's go!"  No.  And I sit.  "Bleach blonde, seriously, you did it last time, you'll be fine."  NO!  Bring the drugs.  But because I had my kids with me, and also because they were rolling their eyes and crawling under the couch in embarrassment, I finally got up and plodded back *there*. 

It was 18 degrees back *there*, so I kept my down coat on, and I added my gloves - to avoid the typical bloody hand syndrome I end up with after digging my own nails into my hands for the duration of the torture cleaning.  She hands me some safety goggles, which might I add, is just fucked up.  Safety goggles?  Jesus.  There's something totally fucked up about a check-up procedure that requires safety goggles.  Next she hands me a handful of staples and tells me to chew on them for a bit.  Satisfied that I'm sufficiently tortured at this point, she removes the staples and hands me a handful of rubber shards and tells me to chew on those.  So I do and at about the time I think I might throw up from the rubber chewing, she shoots water that is 1 degree from the freezing point into my mouth and onto every single tooth, and as I near the point of drowning, she sticks a vacuum in my mouth and saves my life.  For the final step, she grabs a spool of gardening twine and jabs it between every tooth. "There!  You're done!  You look perfect!" 

I can't imagine that I actually look perfect after chewing on staples and rubber for 20 minutes, nor can I believe I actually lived to talk about it.  But I did.  And I'll be back in 6 months to do it all over again.  I can hardly wait to see what fucked up shit they dream up between now and then.  It's always an adventure in horror.

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