Elephant in the room

This will come as a shock, but even in the halcyon days before Covid, going to the dentist was never on my short list of favorite things. It ranked slightly above getting a colonoscopy and just below hearing the Facts Of Life theme song.

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.

When it came time to face the music last month, I was still apprehensive because of Covid, but I also didn’t want my teeth to wind up looking like Austin Powers’.

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.

Stuck with acupuncture

I know people who always turn to alternative medicine as a first resort. They have all sorts of theories why western medicine is out to kill us with all the toxic, synthetic chemicals that go into them. I keep reminding them penicillin is a natural drug made from bread mold, but for some reason they don't appreciate hearing it.

Barring the terminally broken healthcare system - which is another post entirely - I've always been fairly satisfied with my doctors and western medicine.

For example, I'm a big fan of antibiotics. Sign me up. As I've said here before, if I have a sinus infection, the last thing I'm doing is running to Whole Foods' vitamin section to speak with their granola-eating, patchouli-wreaking, vegan-vitamin-nutritarian to see what combination of herbs and homeopathic whammy-jammy I should take. No thanks.

Instead, I'll have my doctor phone in a Z-Pak to CVS, take the first dose when I go to bed and wake up feeling a hundred per cent better.

Drug resistant strains? Over prescribing? Patients abusing them? What. Ever.

I'm not one to wallow in, court or prolong my misery. If there's a pill, ointment, syrup or vaccine that makes it better, I'm in. Having said that, sometimes there just isn't.

I have a little neuropathy in my feet, so occasionally they feel numb and cold. Something to do with the nerves not communicating with the brain. By the way, if you ask people I work with they'll tell you I haven't had any communication with my brain in years.

Anyway, it's usually caused by diabetes, which I don't have. Sometimes it's just another item on the list of fun things to look forward to as we get older. It's not hurting anything, and is really more of an annoyance than anything else. There's nothing to be done about it.

Or is there?

In researching options for those times it does bother me, I came across study after study that said acupuncture is an effective way to greatly reduce or cure neuropathy. So I'm giving it a try. It's done at a wellness practice near where I live. The doctor takes a health history, asks what the problem is and then starts sticking me with needles in my hands and toes.

There are three good things about the needles: they're sterile, one-use only. They're less than the thickness of one hair. And they don't hurt going in or out. In fact during my session, the doctor asks if I can feel the needles, and the answer is always no.

Of course, my feet are numb so I wouldn't feel them anyway, but still, you know what I mean.

My first rodeo with non-traditional medicine was when I started having arthritis in my wrist that was moving up my arm years ago. I went to a rheumatologist, who prescribed this horse pill called Daypro for the pain. I asked how long I'd have to be on it, and he said the rest of my life. No bueno.

Then my trainer at Gold's Gym - I know what you're thinking, "Jeff, you're such a perfect physical specimen why do you need to go to a gym?" - introduced me to Francois, a practitioner of a healing form of shiatsu. Not the massage kind, the kind where he presses his fingers knuckle-deep into pressure points on my back and neck and I scream bloody murder.

Here's the thing: after five sessions, the arthritis was gone and has never come back. Since then, I've reconsidered my position on alternative medicine.

The acupuncturist said she's had great success with neuropathy like mine. I'll report back in a few weeks and let you know.

I know some of you reading this will dismiss acupuncture outright. Others might even make jokes about it. That's fine, doesn't bother me at all.

If I've learned anything from these treatments, it's that I can take a little needling.