Top 10 Dental Do's and Don'ts

*Disclaimer: This post is directed to the morons of the world. Not my lovely and respectful readers :)

1. Never EVER grab your hygienist's hand as he or she is working in your mouth. Let me tell you why.

a) Remember...you're not the one holding sharp instruments. And I'll bet if you tick your hygienist off, he or she could "accidentally" end up nicking your lips, teeth, cheek or tongue--or worse, all of the above (not really...well, OK. Maybe). Don't push us, people! We're uptight enough as it is!

b) It's flat out rude. You might as well say, "I don't believe you're doing a competent job, so I'm going to take it from here. Your years of training and knowledge mean nothing to me." Seriously, forget the gritty water in your mouth. You will NOT die if you can't have it suctioned immediately. Trust me. Your hygienist is working on getting your mouth cleared of every single speck of grit, got it?

c) It's just demeaning and unnecessary. Period. I had a patient grab my wrist today and yank it to her mouth. My gut reaction(s) was to scream, cry, and gasp all at the same time. I can't explain it. It's just how you feel when some one unexpectedly and forcefully grabs you. She's lucky I didn't sock her.

2. Swallow your spit. You will not die if you swallow a smidgen of the saliva that pools in your mouth as we are cleaning your teeth. You swallow roughly 2 liters of the stuff ever day. Just because you're lying back in a dental chair does not automatically mean your brain to gullet mechanism is severed and that you need our assistance in helping you rid yourself of your own body fluids. We do all we can to make you comfortable, but we are not going to swallow the junk for you. Oh, and none of this pointing frantically to your mouth with a look of utter disgust on your face. We're gettin' there. I assure you, we are well on our way with "Mr. Thirsty Straw." Give us .5 seconds. Puh-leeze.

3. When we take your blood pressure, don't say things like, "Oh, well it's never been that high. It's your cuff. It must be broken. Those things are never very accurate." I assure you. It is not the cuff. It is you. It is your blood pressure. We are trying to do you a service by screening you from a potential silent death. Throw us a bone and at least pretend to be concerned.

4. Stay wide open. Try as best as you can to stay open wide. The mouth is the world's tiniest cave with lots of nooks and crannies to navigate. The wider your mouth stays open, the more we are able to see, the less pain we are likely to inflict, no? And resist the temptation to move your lips around while you're being rinsed, as well. If we need you to move any part of your mouth, we'll tell you so.

5. Although well-intentioned, try not to assist us in our efforts to floss your teeth by pushing your lips around. Truth be told, the tongue and lips can be very strong. After all, they are made up of muscles (creepy and a little weird). But we know what we're doing when it comes to flossing your teeth. If you're trying to help us out by pushing the floss out, it ends up being a battle for us to get it to where it needs to go. Just play dead. That is the best way.

6. This is a biggie: Don't look at us in the eyes when we're cleaning your teeth. This sounds like common sense, but you would not BELIEVE the amount of time I spend avoiding people's soul-searching stares. Ew. Please. I'm begging you, avoid eye contact when we're inches from your mouth.

7. For the love of heaven, brush and floss before you come to your appointment. Yes, floss. As in the white stringy stuff you stick between your teeth?!

8. When we say, "Turn toward me" or "Turn away from me" we mean "Turn toward me" and "Turn away from me." Not "Turn 1/32 inch toward me" or "Turn 1/32 inch away from me." Don't be shy. Turn that head of yours! All 14 lbs. of it. A good rule of thumb? When the hygienist says, "Turn toward me," make like you're going to lie on your ear that is closest to him or her and then tilt your chin up in the air. And as always, open wide.

9. Three words: Please & Thank You

10. Be honest. Your swollen, bleeding gums is a dead giveaway to the fact that you're not flossing. Don't insult me by telling me you are, in fact, flossing. In doing so you are forcing me to tiptoe around the fact that I don't believe you. Capeesh? (Thank you, Uncle Jesse).

Love,

Your Friendly (But Slightly Peeved) Dental Hygienist

Now. Who wants me to clean their teeth? Ha. Ha. I'm betting I'm not going to get many takers...Until next time ;)

Quote of the Day

Patient: "Are we almost done?"
Me: "Yes. We are almost done." But what I REALLY wanted to say was this: "Yes. We are almost done, but you can't be seriously asking me that as a 26-year-old operating room technician and grown woman. You assist surgeons through hours and hours of surgeries at the hospital (many of them probably very goopy and gorey operations, no less) and you are seriously going to throw the "Are we almost done?" line at me? Sheesh. Lady, you're making me lose my gusto for my job, for dentistry, for life. I feel myself caving in to the low expectations I refused to have for people--at least up until now. I have concluded that the lower my expections are for my fellow man and/or woman, the better off I am. You just aren't disappointed as easily, no? Expected the unexpected, I say! But what really sealed the deal and made me want to use my shoe to boot her bum out of my chair is when she said this:
Patient: "If you can't tell, I hate the dentist. It makes me nauseous."
Me: "Yeah. I get that a lot." And then I thought about the four hour "blood clot" surgery she assisted with. To each his (or her) own. Until next time...;)

Ticket to Ride

The following is a "ticket" my mom received after parking at Green Bluff this past weekend (a very busy, and very crowded venue with little to no parking). Mind you, this is not a real ticket left by a legitimate authority figure. No, no. This ticket was left by some moron who felt that my mom had parked inappropriately (she wasn't, she took pictures with her cell phone and we all agreed she commited no parking crime). What really amazes me is that someone out there in the universe took the time and thought to draft this thing up, and has the nerve to leave it whenever, wherever he/she feels like it. They carry these things around with them! Then again, I am taking the time to blog about it. So, the question is, who is the one that needs to get a life? Don't answer that...Anywho, enjoy the verbage of this unbelievable gesture captured in paper form. It pretty much speaks for itself--loud and clear, no less:

Rectifying Birds

They tried to warn me. At the staff meeting this morning. Yup. They tried. About what, you ask? Oh, that my ten o' clock patient was a real doozy. I believe the exact word used was: "Crotchety." Awesome. Those crotchety people are my absolute fave. In fact, I prefer them. NOT. I used to fret and stew over difficult patients--you know, the ones with a reputation in the dental office. The ones that only require a mere mention of their name and the whole office shudders and then gives a collective, unspoken nod of understanding. I would anxiously watch the clock until the dreaded hour came when I would have to see Mrs. Stuck Up or Mr. Jerkypants. It was like a ticking time bomb. Dread. Absolute dread. I've now learned that there is nothing I can do from stopping these people from coming through that front door and into my operatory. It's like Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds." They'll find you--anywhere. And when they do, they pick and peck apart your sanity. It. Is. Painful. Today, he found me. And I'd even been warned.

I brought said "doozy, crotchety" patient back to review his medical history in a separate consultation room. First, he told me I had the wrong patient pulled up on the screen. Hmm. I doubt that there is another patient by your first and last name, sir. What? Is there another patient in this office who just happens to be taking the EXACT list of medications you claim to take? Does that patient miraculously have the same birthday and physical ailments you do, too, including (but not limited to): an appendectomy at the age of 14, a hernia, glaucoma, high blood pressure, hives/rash, gout, arthritis, and difficulty breathing, sir? I sincerely doubt it. I really do. But, if so, then that would be a freakin' miracle, wouldn't it, sir? So, let me just pretend to check to make sure I have the right "John Doe" when I am 110% positive that I do. You know how I know this? Because I'm not an invalid.
It gets better. Mid-sentence he interrupts me and as if I have earmuffs on he yells: "I'M HERE FOR A CLEANING."

I paused. I blinked. I looked him in the eye. And then I punched him in the face. OK. I didn't do that. But you better believe my fist thought about it real hard. Nothing would have given me more satisfaction than to have knocked number 9 from his maxilla (the only front tooth left dangling--and I do mean"dangling"). But instead of throwing down, I smiled, warmly (emphasis added), and simply stated, "Right. That's what we have you down for" (&*%^$@).

After we made it through our FIRST 3 MINUTES of the appointment, I escorted him back to my operatory, or as I like to call it, The Serenity Room. That's a story for another day and time, but let's just say there is a giant picture of a beautiful island oasis and I pretend I am there with Edward Cullen (I mean, my sweet Jason) most days instead of scraping "sugar bugs" and sucking spit from people's rotten teeth. As I was pathetically attempting (and failing) to make conversation with my favorite patient in the whole wide world, he looks at me, and again, spits out another interruption: "You talk too fast."

Again. The trembling fist. I jammed it into my pocket. I've worked TOO hard to lose my license now! He will NOT take this from me!

Me: "Yeah. And I mumble, too. My husband tells me all the time."

And here it is, the line of the day, quote of the year, word of my lifetime. You ready?

Mr. Crotchety: "You need to rectify that problem."

More blinking. And then do you know what I did? I laughed. Out loud. I laughed for two reasons: 1) Because I haven't heard the word "Rectify" for at least 2 years and had forgotten completely that it existed and 2) because that's what people do when they are in shock. Their comprehension drains from their head to their toes and then sputters out in the form of laughter. Un-freakin-believable. My response?

"Oh. Right. I'll add that to my list of things I need to do to improve myself. There's just SO many."

Does it go without mention that he had one of the nastiest mouths I've ever seen? That he doesn't floss and brushes maybe once a day? Do I really need to tell you that he acted shocked when I told him his teeth were loose and that they were going to fall out of his head? And that I literally had to hold them stable with my fingertip while I scaled them? Does it? Well. Now you know.

After he left, my front office manager came back to talk to me. I thought, "Oh, no. Here it comes. I'm going to get it." But do you know what she said to me: "YOU, young lady, have a huge fan!"

What?! NOOOO! I NEVER want to see him again! Ever (that's why I scheduled him with the other hygienist who happens to be in Hawaii for his next cleaning. You snooze, you lose!). That's right. Mr. Crotchety wants to see me next time. What have I done? I should have punched him. I should have! But like I said earlier, he would have found me anyway. I'm a magnet for those kind of people. It's the Lord trying to teach me patience and me just not getting it. Or blatantly refusing to. Birds. They're everywhere. I'm going for the right hook next time. It's my only defense.

Illiterate

My cousin, Brad, took this picture with his cell phone. It's not great quality. But this is what it says: "Non-Fiction Picture Books." Hmmm. I had no idea that "Where the Wild Things Are" and Dr. Seuss is now considered non-fiction. I guess you learn something new every day!

Dead Head

Quote of the day: "Are you going to get my WHOLE head numb?!!!!!!"

(If it means you'll shut up, then the answer is a big fat "yes").

I Forgot That I Was the Stupidest Person in the World

I've decided that old people (like really old people) are either the best thing in the world or the worst thing in the world. There is no middle ground with them. No gray area. They either exist to melt your heart or make your life completely miserable. Today, I dabbled in misery. An 88-year-old patient told me the following:

"You couldn't possibly understand."

*"You have that thing set up wrong" (in relation to my ultrasonic scaler). Me and my five years of university education are not even going to go there. After all, monkeys could scrape teeth, right?

*"I don't have time for xrays. That's just one more thing to tack on to my schedule." Because 88-year-old men who require rides to and from their dental appointments have SO much to do during the course of the day.

*"You be nice to your Grandfather. When you call him, don't talk to him too long. You'll bore him." I am NOT making this up!

*"I don't want a lecture about any of that stuff" after I simply asked him when he would like us to reschedule him for his next recare appointment.

*"I've been eating a lot of beets, and carrots, and beans." Hmmm. I hadn't noticed. Gag.

Oh, and don't even worry about the fact that I sucked up not one but TWO of his snot rockets with my high vac suction. I'd rant and rave about it all if it weren't for the fact that it is so darn sad. It is what it is. Oh, and I never want to be that old. Ever. But if I am, I want to be a "melt your heart" kind of old person. Until next time...;)