Today I will share a cautionary tale. As a mom, I tell many cautionary tales to my children, such as the one about how their Dad got a wooden dowel stuck in the roof of his mouth when he was a kid (lesson: don't run with things in your mouth), one about how I once stapled my thumb and it throbbed all day (lesson: don't touch the stuff on mommy's desk), and one about how I knew a girl who accidentally stuck a knife into her eyeball and had to get a glass eye (true, and the lesson should be obvious.) But today's cautionary tale, while equally scary and painful, is for the moms, not the kids.
I'll start with a shocker. It's been 8 years since I went to the dentist. Do you already see where I am going with this? So last night I set the alarm clock for my 7:45 dentist appointment. Why 7:45? Perhaps I thought I could sleep through it all. Anyway, it was strange setting the alarm clock last night, as no stay-at-home-mom with 3 kids under the age of 5 has any need for an alarm clock. (Unless you are one of those super put-together moms who showers and makes coffee before the kids get up, and if you are, please don't tell me about it.) Even stranger, it seems alarm clock makers have started printing much blurrier labels on the teeny-tiny setting buttons since the last time I had to set one.
But mine successfully went off at 6:07, and I actually got fully ready and out the door before any child or even my husband was up. And stupidly felt a thrill of freedom at being out of the house alone, in the morning, in a decent outfit and with make-up on. I look like one of those put-together moms! The possibilities for my day are endless! Should I go through Starbucks? No, don't want to get my teeth dirty or get coffee breath. So straight to the dentist I went, ten minutes early, no rushing necessary (another nice change for me.) In the waiting room, I even got to watch CNN with no interruptions, like a real, thinking, informed grown-up. And then she called my name.
I knew it would involve some very unpleasant scraping, and that my gums were not so great, and so there would be some gingivitis and bleeding. But oh-my-goodness, I had no idea. Before she picked up her metal tools, she used this water-pick type pressure washer that seemed to pierce and shred every inch of my gums, all with this high-pitched drilling drone radiating into my jaw. I used my Bradley Birth relaxation techniques to keep from clenching every muscle in my body against that thing.
She reassured me my gums would get much better once they were cleaned well, and that regular cleaning, of course, will prevent the need for that in the future. She mopped up the blood from that round of torture, and THEN picked up her metal scraping instruments. Seriously, I began thinking about the scene from Syriana when George Clooney has his finger nails pulled out. I wondered if this might be worse.
To skip over the rest of the gore, I will just say that I am trying not to smile much today, so as not to make anyone recoil in terror at my red and puffy gums. I have a new professional mouthwash that I will use religiously, I will be flossing more consistently, and I will NOT procrastinate my six-months cleanings in the future. And I keep hearing Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman saying, "You shouldn't neglect your gums!"
You really shouldn't.
