a visit to the dentist (lyn)

Yesterday I called to schedule an appointment for a teeth cleaning.  I love the results; hate the process.  I should go every four months, but it’s been almost seven months, so the cleaning will be even more rigorous (translated, more painful) than usual.  When I called for the appointment I was hoping for next week, as I need at least that much time to mentally prepare.  Unfortunately my favorite hygienist had nothing available until March 30, except for today at 10.  I had no choice.

I get up this morning, have a Vitamuffin, and aggressively brush and floss my teeth.  I grab my iPhone and airbuds and leave.  While this is probably the most expensive dentist’s office in Manhattan, the dentist is one of New York’s best, and he has hired hygienists who mirror his strive for perfection.

 I get on the chair, turn on my music, and try to relax for the next 45 minutes.

When Jean is done, I look in the mirror and my teeth look so white I swear, they are almost sparkling.  My whole face looks better.  Brighter.  Dare I say younger.  I tell Jean that it reminds me of painting an apartment.  When it’s done, the overall effect is that everything in it looks better.  Cleaner. Neater.

It’s the same with losing weight. .  I’ve been told I glow; and I’ve been told my skin looks good. Soon I expect to be told that my wrinkles have magically disappeared (I wish). 

Whether it’s real or imagined, I love this cumulative affect.