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July 18, 2006
About dentists
Am I just a big baby?
So I went to a new dentist today, which you do a lot when you’re married to a Navy Guy and move across the country every other week. It was a very high-tech, brightly decorated, enormous compound sort of place, with something like 15 or 20 different patient rooms.
Each with its own TV.
Now, this may be a great idea. TV may be a distraction from the nerve-wracking experience of having TOTAL STRANGERS stick their hands and various metal instruments of torture in your mouth. (Since I have personal space issues, and it took me at least two years before I let my husband even hold my hand in public, you might say I have teensy PROBLEMS with this concept.)
But, back to the TV. So my new dentist walks in, and he’s a fairly young guy. Seems nice. He starts to work on my teeth, all gets quiet in the room, and – you know how commercials are always so much louder than the program??
Yeah. A commercial for a FEMININE ITCHING AND BURNING product came on.
Did I mention it was LOUD?
My face, thank you so much to my lovely Irish ancestors, immediately turned a bright shade of fire-engine red. I closed my eyes and pretended not to hear the TV.
TV: And NOW, in a convenient TRAVEL-SIZED container, in CASE YOU EXPERIENCE THAT PAINFUL ITCHING AND BURNING ON THE ROAD
Me:
And did I mention that I’d be much better with the whole dentist thing if they handed you a Valium as you walked in the door?
Finally, finally, the torture was over (the commercial AND the dentist part), and then I had to walk a mile or two to the opposite side of the building for the cleaning and exam part of the day. I sat down, waited a few minutes, tried to relax and prepare for yet another person’s hands in my mouth. The hygienist (who was very nice) arrives, prepares for the Spanish Inquisition, er, my teeth cleaning, and asks if I’d like a different channel on the TV.
Just as I open my soon-to-be-sparklingly-clean mouth to say it doesn’t matter, we both hear it.
TV: For those PERSISTENT YEAST INFECTIONS . . .
AARGHHHH. A girl can’t freaking win. So all I want to know is this: when I next go to the OB-GYN, am I going to be bombarded with commercials for . . . toothpaste and floss??
Hugs,
Alesia, off Saturday to bring her fab new smile to be a guest author at Suzanne Brockmann’s wild reader weekend in Atlanta and then to RWA National - hope to see a lot of you there!!
Posted by Alesia at 3:48 AM | Comments (7)
Comments
Well, which is worse? Would you rather watch Preparation H and Depends ads or the feminine hygiene products, better yet the old Doxidan commercial/jingle?
The personal space "thing" isn't unusual. My mother said when was a girl in Thailand, the village venerates would tell the young girls that holding hands was the way one becomes pregnant. It wasn't until the last 15-20 years that any public displays of affection were tolerated in Thailand.
Posted by: Brian at July 18, 2006 9:54 AM
Honestly? I'd be good with ads for Doritos. And a good old-fashioned Snickers bar. No personal hygiene whatsoever. In fact, that goes for commercials in general. And those ones for lawyers? 1-800-SUE SOMEBODY?? Recognize the importance of letting the public know about legal assistance available but HATE. THEM.
HATE. THEM.
With a virulently purple passion.
But even they wouldn't bother me so much at the dentist's . . . :)
Posted by: Alesia Holliday ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.literarychicks.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at July 18, 2006 10:03 AM
We watch a lot of sports at my house. Well, at least the other people in my house watch a lot of sports and I sort of watch by osmosis. Anyway, my kids can sing all the jingles for the various beer commercials which only seems bad until you realize they're also watching all the ads that warn you about those four hour erections.
Eileen
Posted by: Eileen at July 18, 2006 11:33 AM
Just what you need when you're sitting there and a stranger has his hand half-way down your throat!
LOL.
Posted by: Michelle C at July 18, 2006 11:58 AM
I hate the ads with perky women in white pants jumping on trampolines who are having a "happy period." Really, shouldn't there be some dedicated time when I can be a wench?
Posted by: Eileen at July 18, 2006 1:16 PM
My hubby and I were discussing moving out state and my huge issue was (seriously) "But what if they don't have a good dentist there?" To which the hub replied "I don't think we should choose where to live based on the dentist." Sure, sounds all reasonable in theory but now with this whole TV thing...yikes!
Posted by: Susan Hatler at July 18, 2006 8:26 PM
I hate the dentist. Fear and Loathing. I think if there were tvs, that sort of thing would happen to me too. And then I'd never go back. I'm always looking for reasons to never go back.
I did get a prescription for valium once, though. That's what happens when you burst into tears when the dentist describes what he wants to do to your mouth.
Posted by: Sara Dennis at July 20, 2006 10:53 AM
