Friday, January 30, 2009

ISO: Dentist Who DOES NOT Speak English

Way back when I was 13 I had to undergo a few operations. The whole shebang is kind of a long story, but what's relevant for today is that basically I was terrified. Not terrified because they'd be cutting me, or terrified of being put into a medically-induced coma, or terrified of being in a hospital, or anything normal like that. No, this being me, I was terrified because somebody told me that in the process of going under from the anesthesia a lot of people start to talk about random stuff that they can't control and don't remember later, and this threw me into a full-on panic because WHAT IF I START TALKING ABOUT MASTURBATION. Oh, my god, those doctors would KNOW! And what if I said something like "Hey Doctor so-and-so, your breath smells!" Well, it did smell, but if I actually said that?!

When I woke up after the operation this was the first thing I thought to ask about. Not "How'd my operation go," or "Where's my mom." No, the first question out of my mouth was, "Did I say anything embarrassing?" The nurse assured me that I talked about dolphins, but I know she was lying. I just KNOW I told Dr. Smelly Breath that I knew about masturbation, and OH MY GOD, BURY ME NOW IN A HEAP OF STEAMING EMBARRASSMENT.

What's amazing to me about this particular childhood paranoia of mine is it's longevity. I mean, I used to be scared that I'd die in the middle of the night, and scared of worms, and scared of dogs, and I hated avocado, but I've gotten over all that. But this fear of being unable to control the words that come out of my mouth? I think it's here to stay.

The dentist that I go to in Austin, for example. I am terrified of dentistry, largely because of a hard-to-forget episode in my life called Drilling Right On the Nerve Without Novocaine. Ugh, just remembering it gives me the heebie-jeebies. Well, my dentist is nice and, knowing how scared I am of dentistry, he always offers to give me a little laughing gas to relax me before he does any work, or, you know, a cleaning. This sounds wonderful to me. A little shot of something to take the edge off, so I don't leave my permanent handprints on the arms of the dentist chair. But can I do it? No, of course not. Because my dentist is cute and married, and WHAT IF I TELL HIM I LUUUURVE HIM? Oh, earth, please swallow me whole.

So here's the point of this story. I have to go to the dentist, I think. I was eating chicken for lunch and I bit down on a bone and sweet lord it hurt. Two hours later it still hurts a lot. If it keeps hurting in two days, I'm going to a dentist. And you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to find a dentist that doesn't speak a word of freakin' English and I'm going to say, "Drug me up, you crazy dude! I'm going under and no matter what I say, YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND ME!! YAHOOOOOOO! SEX SEX SEX, YOUR BREATH SMELLS, MASTURBATION MASTURBATION, YOU ARE SO SEXY!!! YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND ME!!"

11 comments:

The Creative Housewife said...

I'm dying over here! This may be the funniest thing I've ever read...

Kate said...

Go ahead and get it out of your system! It might just quell that fear so that you can see Dr. McHotstuff in Austin.

One thing though----what if you start speaking in Spanish?? I don't know; I'm just saying....

Alison in CO said...

And don't forget to test his assistants, make sure they won't translate your drug-induced ramblings!

Naoko said...

Cheasty, guess what? I am going to the dentist next Tuesday for a ROOT CANAL. They do not have a laughing gas. Wish me good luck. Yes, I am scared to the death. But I always talk about masturbation so I'm not too worried.

Lindsey said...

Oh, Cheasty, though I feel your pain, I'm glad we're going thrugh the same thing together! And that whole diatribe of what you're afraid is going to come spewing from your mouth, well, that just made me laugh so hard I hurt my nasal passages.

Cheasty said...

well the good news is that my tooth feels much better today, so i probably won't have to see a dentist. the bad news is BOO! I really wanted to purge that goblin, and now it is not to be. unless, of course, i start chewing rocks, but that seems distinctly like a bad idea.

glad i made so many of you laugh! and special notes:

kate and alison in CO: the point is NOT to give me more phobias to tack on top of this one, thankyouverymuch!

naoko: oh my precious. i'll be thinking of you. my advice? get drunk before you go there.

lindsey: i'm sorry about your nasal passages, but i'm glad i made you laugh!

creative HW: go ahead, laugh at my mental anguish. ;)

Prunella Jones said...

I think that everybody - no matter what language they speak - understands when you are talking about sex. Especially if you start winking at him and making the finger in hole hand gestures. That could happen too you know.

Prunella Jones said...

Wait, that probably wasn't a very helpful comment, was it? Oh well, just give them a false name.

Anonymous said...

it's okay cheastypants, at least you know that you can always fly to nicaragua anytime you need extensive dental work done. woohoo! M-A-S-T-U-R-B-A-T-I-O-N!

-Cookie

Jennoit said...

OMG hilarious!! But worse than that....now you've given me a new thing to be paranoid about!!!

garrito said...

Johnny-Come-Lately here, I know, but I've somehow landed on your blog and, well, started reading it. Some funny ass shit. This post especially hits home, as you mention a drilling-sans-novocaine episode. Let me tell you, I didn't even know the stuff existed until I was 18yo. My dentist was this old school quack with hairy knuckles who hit raw nerves like he was playing whack-a-mole. I hate hate hate hate dentists to this day. And I mean loathe them. Good luck with your next experience. Tell him (or her) their breathe stinks, even if it doesn't!