Job shadow dentists

 

To the editor,

 

Our esteemed congressional life forms, sometimes resembling pond scum, continue to plunge the federal government into Grand Canyon despair. Sure, they’re getting paid for screwing up while hordes of federal employees go without. It’d be refreshing if they (the scum) actually produced something.  Like “National Cavity Week.” 

Like 11 out of 10 Americans, my teeth are not, how you say, virgins. This is not my fault. During childhood (1958 – present), candy companies practically force-fed me mountains of sugar-saturated treats. I’d watch Gilligan’s Island drinking Mountain Dew through a red licorice straw for goodness sake!

 It’s no surprise abnormalities are still found. A couple of weeks ago, the dentist and his hygienist huddled around my x-rays, muttering stuff like, “Mumble, mumble, … dark spot by # 2. Mumble, mumble … blonde enters a bar. Mumble, mumble … I was talking to the duck.” I’ve heard this one before.

So last week I arrived for the sacred “dental molecule realignment.” The bubbly assistant deposited me in a slick chair that’s easy to clean should I vomit. She flashes a bright toothy grin. I’m thinking, “Listen gal, I didn’t get off the tooth decay bus yesterday. The shot’s coming.”    

When I was a kid, dentists merrily brandished shots as a form of punishment. Today’s dentists are “You might feel a little pressure” magicians. The needle, which eventually reaches my brain’s teensy furniture dusting lobe, is levitating me while causing respiration and heart rates to stop. Pretty cool magic trick.

I don’t mind the drilling – just the spit-congealed dental waste accumulating in my throat’s gag-threshold. Should I swallow or pass gas to get some attention? Then there’s the final drill, made from ground hub caps, which vibrates me into delirium until the assistant starts to resemble – Marilyn Monroe?!  

Contemporary filling substances are gathered near Rosewell, NM; hermetically stored in Area 51. After globbing a dollop on my tooth, my dentist probes it with the “black wand,” as it transmits my few remaining brain cells back to the mother ship. Dentists are aliens? I knew it.

Of course, these days you can see before, during, and after pictures. Fascinating oral grossness! Just one more reason I’m thankful for my dental professionals.

 Maybe our politicians should job-shadow dentists.  They’re good at numbing pain, drilling away yucky decay, sucking up slimy waste, and filling deficits so you can hardly see them.  Maybe they can fix health care, too.

 

Joe Barnhart

Dillon