Sadistic Dental Hygienist

The other day I met with the Sadistic Dental Hygienist. I don't know her name, so that is her identifier. A sign in her office reads, "I'm not rough, I'm just thorough." It's only really readable from the chair, in a position of submission to her gloved hands and waxed thread of torture. She digs into the gum with the floss, deeper and deeper until I'm sure the tooth will abandon my mouth. Then she does it again with the next. When she pulls her hands away they're covered in blood. She tells me in a frantic whisper that I have to, have to floss. I tell her I do. She tells me to go deeper, that my gums can handle it. I wonder if her husband likes this part of her personality.

I fear going to that dentist's office. The second I enter the brown carpeted office with the broken door jamb, the stink of mouthwash and raspberry cleaning paste turns my stomach. I spin the Russian roulette wheel and fervently pray for the mousy blonde cleaner. It's her or the Sadistic Dental Hygienist.

When she pulls out the scraping needles of corporal mortification, I imagine myself on trial during the Spanish Inquisition. I am about to be purged of my sins and whatever they are, they must be tooth related. One scraper rounds my left canine and I feel pain I haven't felt since I realized the constant throbbing in my jaw was caused by wisdom teeth and not a chronic nerve problem.

My feet curl inward and I clench my fists. BUT, I refuse to let her see my pain, because I think, and I'm just guessing here, that she thrives on it. That light that she shines in my eyes to distract me is really zapping all the anguish out of her victims -- the 6 to 98-year-old cavity-ridden walking mouth-holes -- while they try to stifle their tears by staring into that blinding light.

It's a failproof system -- EXCEPT when her victims are strong enough to bottle it up, suppress their terror and pain until the exact moment when they're cut off in traffic or their dog vomits on the floor. I prevailed that day. I kept quiet. I survived and lived to tell my tale...at least for the next six months.