Monday, December 1, 2014

I hate the dentist

And I never used to.  Not until we moved to San Ramon, then I started hating the dentist and I blame this town.  This town where nothing is just 'okay', something has to be wrong. Not until we moved here did I discover all the problems that my kids have.  I should have realized what we were getting into after the first school conference when the teacher explained to me in great detail what an academic disaster my B student was and all the work that needed to be done if he ever wished to make it through 4th grade.  It was the first time I'd ever gone through standardized test results, point by point, and was told each and every area of concern.  Including the subjects that had not yet been taught in class.  "He really struggled with subtracting fractions.  We'll be covering that next month so he's really going to need to focus on that!"  Or perhaps you could just teach a subject before testing on it?  I left the conference with the teacher's grave concerns about his ability to truly success in 3rd grade.  I warned a friend who had just moved here from Texas, "the first conference will be a mess."  She came out amazed, "Well, not only is he not up to 3rd grade levels, he may not even be up to 2nd grade level."  Welcome to San Ramon.

I've also been hit with the California stick at every pediatric appointment.  The boys are relatively healthy so we're only at their doctor once a year for check ups and maybe one other time for strep.  The first year Tom was developing scoliosis but it apparently went away by the next visit.  Another time we sat through a 12 minute lecture on watching for the early warning signs of testicular cancer.  They were 11.  This last year Sam had a collapsed arch. right.

(all of this is true, by the way)

But my biggest problem lately is the dentist, which we see twice a year.  And on every. single. visit.  I have to go back and look in the boys mouths and hear how terrible their oral hygiene is.  On the first visit, I didn't realize that I was supposed to jump up and look in his mouth so I just sat there looking at the dentist looking at me.  It was a little staring contest until....Oh! sorry, let me get in there and see what the upper left number 7 is doing.  Really?  Lady, I'm the mother. Don't you realize that all I want to see is their mouth to be CLOSED?  This last time I got the usual lecture on their substandard oral hygiene and she actually said this, "they really need to focus on this or they will start developing cavities, but neither one have cavities on this visit."  I'm sorry, what was that? No cavities?  Oh, so their oral hygiene isn't that bad?  In fact let's check out the file notes from the last visit.  hmmm, no cavities.  And the visit before that.....no cavities.  In fact between the two boys we have a total of..... zero cavities. So shut. the. fuck. up.

And what also kills me is, they call me Mom.  Let's go get Mom, I'll tell Doctor that Mom is back, well, Mom, Tom wasn't looking so good this visit.  How about you crack open that medical file that is sitting right in front of you, and look up my fucking name?  How about that, huh?   I told John he has to take them to their next appointment and if they call him Dad, I'll give him a blow job.

Now both of the boys have braces so I have the added pleasure of going to the orthodontist every month and hearing the same thing.  I get to hear all the ways  they need to improve their oral hygiene.  Why are you telling me?  I have excellent oral hygiene.  Tell them!  Don't look at me and suggest that I develop a incentive program.  How about this, brush your teeth or they'll fall out of your head.  I blew up at the boys last time and said, "This is the easiest thing that will every be asked of you.  Brush your teeth!!!! Everything after this gets harder!!!!!!!"

I think they need to bring back some of the pain.  When I was a kid, if you didn't brush your teeth the next visit to the dentist was painful.  Now it's all, are you okay? I'll put on more numbing cream. let's use the nitrous oxide.  All we got was the Novocaine shot that hurt like hell.  The dentist would have to wiggle it all around to get it in the right spot.  Shiiiiiittttttt.  Just stop and I'll floss more! uncle! UNCLE!!

And on every visit to the orthodontist, as I'm walking across the parking lot into the building,  I walk past two dads sitting in their cars, too scared to go inside.  fucking cowards.

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