Fresh Baked

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

I'm A Big Kid Now

So, the whole tooth thing...

I have self-diagnosed myself out of a wisdom tooth and into some type of premature gum-malfunction. Regardless of my own no-doubt accurate assumptions, I think need a second opinion. And perhaps some treatment. Rather than asking everyone in the great wide world about this until it goes away, I called my dentist.

Dr. King is the first and only dentist I have ever been to. We have a beautiful relationship. He has caused me more pain than I believe anyone else has and I have told him all the dumb, bad jokes I know, which is perhaps cause for the pain. But I always get a toy at the end, for he is a Pediatric Dentist, meant for the express help of the wee ones in dental need. A set to which I, sadly, have not belonged in a number of years.

But when I called, I was told that the time has come to move to the dentist next door; Dr. King is no longer seeing adults. When his receptionist told me this, my reaction was two-fold. On one hand, shit-- I'm 25, you're damn right I need an adult dentist. Why did I call this fool? But on the other hand, I huuuuuurt. I don't want anyone but him poking in my mouth. I want to stamp my foot and huff out of the office and behave like the petulant 7 year-old I truly am inside and, when doing this, have him look up from some poor kid in a face contraption, nod knowingly, and say, "Take some press on tattoos and army men on your way out."

Sadly, it is not to be. I have to accept that I am an Adult now and move on. I got the number for Dr. NotKing and asked that my records be sent over to him. And was then
told that since my records are SO OLD, they've been deleted. Haaaaaa.