Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Smoke And Mirrors...And Pointy Things

Thanks to all for your consolation on the scratchy sweater issues. To have come so very far on the project before finally just accepting that I am allergic to this particular wool was disheartening. I've used this fiber before without problems and I don't seem to react to anything else this way. But the dry winter skin is making me all sensitive and delicate. I'm really a fragile Sheepie. I require a gentle touch...

And it's all just a distraction anyway. A means for avoiding yet another, more unpleasant little event that awaits me in the very near future. A place where the hope of a gentle touch is for naught. All you clever commenters who happened to glance at the sidebar are correct. My doom awaits. I am mere days away from that most horriblest of appointments. A thing that is worse than vegetables, scratchy wool and and regular exercise combined.

I am going to the dentist.


I never used to have a problem with the dentist. I had my share of dental interventions in my youth and came through with flying colors. I even opted on several occasions to skip the Novocaine and just tough out the fillings. It all worked out...I liked my dentist. He was a good guy who listened to a little lambie and let me make some of the decisions about how we were going to go about this stuff.

Not so with Dr. DeSade, DMD. To be fair, he is not the one who is responsible for my needing so much work on the choppers last year. That was all me. I'll own it. I let some stuff go. The root canal, the fillings, the endless rounds of x-rays, the hundreds and hundreds of dollars...all my own fault.

But, he is mean. And grumpy. And aggressive in his dentistry. And mean...did I mention, "mean?" He makes comments about the state of education and "suggestions" as to how I might be a better teacher. He likes to talk politics. He pokes me with very sharp things then invites me to disagree with his opinions. I decline each and every time. I have not had good experiences with the expression of dissension from the depths of the dental chair.

The dentist's office is not a good place for me. I get the stress. That bright light they shine on patients is not good for a middle aged complexion and makes me feel like I'm being sweated for information by third rate detectives. I take the day off from work to deal.

So now I've got an unwearable sweater and have to somehow cram six month's worth of flossing into the next two days. No problem. I can cope. I will set the alarm for hourly intervals for the next two nights and work the waxy string betwixt my choppers and see if I can't simulate a daily commitment to this most healthy of activities.

And I'll resurrect the Comfort Sock that was begun during the angst-filled days before the removal of The Mole Of Disturbing Dimensions. This soft, squishy and huggable little number is most soothing to a Sheep who is suffering from Sweater Curses and Dental Drama.





And I've already picked up the heel stitches so that whole stress-fest is over!
I'll survive. It's only the dentist, after all. But I can't promise that I will be a brave little soldier. I will spend some quality time chewing on that hangnail that I always gnaw on when the going gets tough. I will force my staff to listen to endless tales of dentist visits past and will reenact the root-canal-without-painkillers experience until they can mouth the dialogue along with me. I will frighten the children in my class with cautionary tales of the dentist and there will probably be phone calls from irate parents who have to sit up with their nightmaring offspring. I will make the usual promises to lay off the Mountain Dew and caramels in order that I might appease the Dental Deities.
None of these things really work and I'm just lying about the soda and candy. I'll be picking them up on the way back from the dentist's office and noshing until I'm sick. But I am a creature of habit and I'll revert to the little rituals despite their lack of any real effectiveness. What else can you do, really?
I'll go. But I don't have to like it. And I'm bringing the knitting needles. In a truly fair fight, both combatants get sharp, pointy things.
I wonder if the good doctor would like a sweater? I happen to have a nice scratchy one here that might go nicely with his chairside manner...
SA

13 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh Sheepie, I'm so sorry the dentist visit is fast approaching! Be strong, use the sock to help you relax, and if it becomes necessary, feel free to use the needles to teach him a lesson.

The sock is really knitting up nicely!

Anonymous said...

Sheepie, you need a new dentist STAT! Live is way too short to put up with a mean dentist. Inquire around the flock -- someone is bound to know a nice one who is also good and competent and doesn't charge the earth. Well, that last one is optional. If the dentist is nice and competent, I'd pay the premium.

sheep#100 said...

Can I trade you? You go visit the orthopedist and I'll take on Dr deSade, DMD.

Don't overfloss - the gums will get all swole and he'll know that that's what you did and the pointy things will just hurt more.

Anonymous said...

Oh, Sheepish, I am so sorry that you are facing the chair of doom. I like the idea of taking your own pointy sticks along, just in case.

I have wondered too, if there is a kindlier dentist around that might be better for you.

Anonymous said...

You need to switch to my dentist. He's really nice, fun to talk to, and doesn't do anything painful to me. You can make a visit to the southern U.S. twice a year, right? :)

Brenda said...

I agree with kmkat. You need a new detist! Be brave and take your comfort sock. It's a pretty sock.

April said...

Oh Sheepie, I feel your pain. I too am terrified of the dentist. I haven't been to the dentist in oh ... well let's not talk about it and have another brownie instead, why don't we?

Jeanne said...

I don't like the dentist, either. Hang in there, Sheepie! In a few hours the experience will be behind you until sometime late in the year. You can do it! :-)

Annie said...

Can't talk about the dentist - too horrid for words.
Have you tried soaking the sweater with hair conditioner? You can use cheap stuff, just use plenty of it - it softened up one of my sweaters almost miraculously.

Anonymous said...

The sock looks great!
Good luck with the dentist. Have you considered switching or is he a really good dentist?
Karen
http://nothingbutknit.blog-city.com/

Lorraine said...

All's fair in love and war, so bring the smallest, metal dpns you can find. Polish them up bright to reflect the spotlight back into his eyes and wear one of those new knitter t-shirts with the skulls. Is it too late to find a scary rub-on tatoo? Send the message that you have knitting needles and you KNOW how to use them! muyahahaha

lobstah said...

Ugh, I thought my dentist was bad! He isn't mean but he totally, how to put it... hugs my head in a kinda of molesting way. He also always asks if I'm married and when I tell him no, he's like "Why not? Are you a lesbian?"
SO obnoxious! But he's the only one within 2 hours that's on my dental plan. Oh well.

debsnm said...

Is he the only dentist in your part of the world? From what I can tell, YOU are paying HIM to take care of your teeth. And paying him quite well, I assume, as they all charge more than God has for the simplest of procedures. I am not a fan of dentists, as you might surmise - I say find another! Stand up for HM! In fact, I'd give HM full reign when in the dentist chair. Scream, cry, frighten children in the waiting room. I'm with ya! You have my full support! Tell him he's not nearly as good-looking as Sir Lawrence Olivier, and you'd rather he didn't speak while causing you pain, and charging you out the you-know-what for a service that other countries take for granted. You go, girl!