But ask anyone who knows me, and right after they stop laughing they’ll tell you I’m nothing if not an overachiever. And because I am, unlike mere mortals I need to have my teeth cleaned three times a year instead of the usual two.
One of those appointments came up back in May. My dentist’s office called to ask if I was going to be comfortable coming in, and I assumed she was asking because of Covid and not my usual bad attitude towards having a strangers hands messing around in my mouth.
I told her, for both reasons, I was not.
So we postponed the appointment a few months, even though I knew full well because I was missing it the next cleaning was going to involve x-rays, extra scraping, maybe a transfusion and definitely smelling salts.
As I arrived I was relieved to see my dentist was following strict Covid protocols. I couldn’t just walk in, I had to call from outside and let him know I was there.
Once inside, I had to answer a short questionnaire, using a clean pen, and then had my temperature taken. I was walked back to the hygienist’s area and directed to the chair. That’s when I saw it: the elephant in the room.
The rather unattractive piece of technology you see up top here is referred to as The Elephant. It’s an industrial grade air filter that sucks the air down the tube before any particles of anything have a chance to go anywhere—like into your nose or mouth.
They placed it literally a quarter inch from my mouth. It was extremely loud but strangely reassuring (just like my high school girlfriend).
My hygienist was wearing two masks, gloves and a face shield. She also pointed out that of the two of us, she was the one more in danger of being exposed to something since my yap was wide open the whole time.
Anyway, the Elephant did a swell job, and I left the office without catching anything except a case of pearly whites. My next daring deed will be masking up and returning to my acupuncturist.
For a long list of reasons, I’m hoping there are no needles called The Elephant in his office.
