A Visit to the Dentist - Roxie

Why does the really nice, sweet young woman who is diligently scraping, rinsing, buffing, squirting water into your mouth and occasionally employing some suction thingy ask you questions while doing all that? Hmm? It’s not like you can answer her or anything, right? The dilemma I have of truly wanting to answer her question and unable to do so at the moment has baffled me throughout my adult life with dental hygienists. I’d think that they would know you couldn’t answer. I mean, really! Your mouth is gaping open, the suction thing is doing its job, and both of her hands are in your mouth with one instrument or another. It’s impossible!

I have had this one sided conversation with various hygienist over the past years and still it intrigues me. I listen, occasionally sort of, kind of, nod a little or uh-uh with my head, but not often. I listen to their story; patiently waiting for that suction thing to allow me to maybe say a word or two, then widen my pie hole for more of the same. It’s rather frustrating actually.

I’ve learned to simply close my eyes and listen and not even try to carry on the exchange of words. It’s a lesson in patience, one I’ve yet to learn very well. God has a way of putting me in these situations just for fun, I think. I’ve always suspected He has a wry sense of humor.

I can just see him. “Gotcha, Roxie!”

My response - “Yes, yes You did … again. I’m happy to see You grinning like Cheshire Cat though.”

And so, until my next dental visit I, too, will be grinning with my nice, newly buffed teeth, still thinking of clever replies for my hygienist.