Great >:( !
As if I wasn’t tense enough, IE just shut down, “we’re-sorry-for-any-inconvenience” my behind, and I was almost DONE with this post. BIG GRROOOOWWWLLLL emanating from deep within. Let’s try again. (thinking vile and wretched thoughts right now and if there was someone standing next to me I’d ring their bell). Sometimes I wish I could be as free-talking as Marnie, but for a host of reasons that ain’t gonna happen. Moving on…
hate dread going to the dentist for anything, even cleanings (I have very sensitive teeth), but ESPECIALLY for everything else. Today’s visit was to refill three old cavities, so, to say the least, I woke up this morning with fear and trembling.
This is probably universal, as Dr. C says “NO ONE is glad to see me unless they’re having their teeth whitened or have a true dental emergency.” He understands fully well his vocation is a necessary
e v i l. I mean, really, go no further than their tray of “instruments” … they LOOK like mini torture devices (why am I thinking about first-year “Alias” right now?). Then the noises, ai yi yi, THE NOISES: high-pitched whirring and whining, mini jackhammers drilling inside your head, a fine-mist facial of water and your own enameled DNA flying all over the place…and then there’s that thing about using dental records to identify bodies. It just scares me, okay?
I suppose Dr. C was trying to get my mind off the fact, that in his hand he held the elixir that would render me a slobbering, facially-paralyzed, dental drunk for the next three hours. Instead, for all his lively banter, my internal “homeland security” went from “High orange” to “Highest red”.
Get this conversation…makes me wonder what his pick-up lines sounded like before he got married:
Spoken very excitedly, “Guess what I saw yesterday?” [I have no idea, but it was a rhetorical question anyway.]
“Live cadavers.” pause for effect [my head does a quick double-take, “WHAT??!”]
“Real, live cadavers.” [isn’t this an oxymoron??]
He begins explaining, his hands animated for effect. No matter the expression of
horror disgust increasing repulsion replacing my usual affable smile. He just wasn’t reading or responding to my social cues to cut the convo SHORT.
Apparently, he took the family to see Bodies: The Exhibition, now touring in Atlanta. He couldn’t get enough of these 21 dead people, various parts dissected for his viewing pleasure. Real. live. dead. people. I’m sure it was educational. Lungs ravaged by emphasema would surely prevent at least some of the viewers from picking up a cigarette. Livers destroyed by cirrhosis would likely deter others from partaking of the wicked drink. Reading the FAQs, this clearly has educational value.
I am sure I’d find this fascinating (once I made a trip to the restroom to hurl), but it feels like our appetite for the macabre is out of control. Voyeurs watching trainwreck after trainwreck, from reality tv to…REALITY. I need to watch the Brady Bunch or Cosby Show or take a shower or something.
Back to my story, post injection, Dr. C leaves the room to allow me time to numb up. So, I start reading the book “I couldn’t put down!” acording to the friend who gave it to me over the weekend, and I swear, if my shoulders weren’t already stress-shrugged up to ear level, they were now! This book begins with the brutal rape and murder of a 14-year-old girl! I HAVE a 14-year-old daughter, so reading something like this is disquieting (an understatement). After I got through the initial shock of its opening, I didn’t have anything else to do while I waited, so I kept going. Forty pages in, I’m intrigued, so it looks like I’m gonna have to finish. The review on this link and my friend’s enthusiasm (?) are compelling.
I wonder if Homeland Security (photo credit, I picked up their alert chart from the website) is gonna investigate my blog now since I talked about it. Wierd…big brother…feeling very 1984-ish right now.