So today I went through yet another doctor’s appointment in preparation for THE MOVE. The Army wants a lot of paperwork proving I won’t be a health liability in Germany. Over the course of two weeks I have approximately 8 appointments scheduled. Some of those may or may not be haircuts and massage appointments, but my calendar is full nonetheless.
Today was the dentist. I hate the dentist. I avoid the dentist at all costs. I floss regularly just so I can avoid the dentist. In my mind, that’s how it works. Flossing means you don’t have to go to the dentist.
The Army made me go to the dentist. So I go, wondering if I can just sweet talk the doctor into signing my form and letting me go without putting his hands in my mouth. But that did not happen. Here is what happened instead:
· 18 x-rays. This felt as excessive as it sounds.
· 1 referral to the orthodontic surgeon. Because I’m nearly 26 and still have my wisdom teeth. “They have to come out sometime, Katie. I pull teeth here, but I think I’ll send you to the surgeon where they’ll sedate you real good since you still have bone covering the teeth…” I think he said more stuff but I passed out after “bone covering teeth”.
· 1 fitting for a nighttime mouth guard. Apparently I’m a “cheek-biting grinder”. Which sounds like something a concerned preschool teacher would tell a parent about their misbehaving child. “Does not play well with others; cheek-biting grinder; frequently disrupts naptime”.
· 1 follow-up appointment. For good measure and probably just to mess with my head. Little do they know that I’ll consider two dentist appointments in one year sufficient to cover for me for the next 4 years at least. Winning.
All that to say is, I still didn’t get the one form I needed signed off…proving, once again, that the dentist simply exists to ruin my life.