I am currently drooling on myself. I can’t feel my face, and when I look in the mirror, a stroke patient’s looking back at me. It’s like Saturday night, only I’m walking into fewer walls, and I don’t want to punch anyone. Except maybe my fucking dentist.
This morning, I had a hemispheric periodontal root planing, which was precisely as pleasant and comfortable as you might think. I spent 90 minutes getting my gums raped by a foreign object, which to be fair, is about what you’d expect when the dentist tells you that you need something called a “hemispheric periodontal root planing.†If he’d called it the “oral reverse double deep mouth dildo stroke maneuver,†it would probably be more popular. Or at least it would be cheaper, since the dentist could defray the cost with spectator trade. Hell, he could sell the audience gummi bears and sno-cones and get the kind of vendor lock-in that would make Steve Jobs weep like an infant and maybe stop compulsively stabbing his Bill Gates doll.
On the positive side, the dentist told me that despite twelve years out of the chair, I have absolutely no tooth decay. Which was a relief, considering that the reason I stopped going to the last dentist was because she told me that I had more oozing cavities to be filled than a mobbed-up Reno brothel.
I’m ninety percent sure that, before I dropped her as my dentist, that bitch filled at least one of my teeth for no reason at all. She tricked me into implanting a purely elective metal prosthesis into my jaw that doesn’t even fire lasers. Even twelve years later, I am planning my revenge.
I don’t understand what makes some doctors try to upsell you on medical care you don’t need. Then again, I don’t own a Mercedes, and “yacht†sound like the noise I make whenever I’m on a boat.
That’s why I don’t go to the doctor very often; finding one’s like finding a mechanic. For every good one, there’s five more who, no matter what the problem is, tell you that you also need a new fuel filter for a few extra bucks. Except when it’s a doctor, he’s going to take your money and install that fuel filter up your dickhole.
The way I see it, the only way to find a good doctor is to go in the first time where you already know what you need. If he’s sketchy, he’ll order up a battery of expensive tests, and blood work, and MRIs, and then he’ll tell you that you need a new fuel filter.
But if he’s good? He’ll just implant the Goddamned laser.
[tags]dentist, dentistry, health care, doctor, medicine, dark humor[/tags]
