Today was my semi-annual sojourn to the dentists’ office, which is actually across the street and takes me about three minutes to reach. My predictions this morning?
- I will be told I need to floss more.
- The amount of finger shaking and encouraging me to floss more will not change from my last visit, even though I really am, in fact, flossing more, albeit marginally.
- I will get a blue toothbrush.
Well, I got a blue toothbush. I don’t know why my dentist only has blue toothbrushes, but I’m not going to complain. I like them because they’re the nice kind and not the cheapy kind I used to get at my previous dentist.
I did not, however, get told to floss more. This is maybe the first time I have ever in my life avoided that conversation! Apparently when they ask if you floss every day and you say “Yes, of course!” that goes better than if you say, “Oh, about four or five times a week.” Apparently.
I also got my usual fluoride treatment, which at this dentists’ office involves a foam mouth tray with the fluoride in the tray so that you have to hold it in your mouth (by biting it) for a minute. They nicely give you one of those spit tubes that sucks your mouth dry during the process. My particular dentist also gives you safety glasses to protect your eyes, I’m assuming from your own mouth. Or something.
Anyway, the photo was too wonderful not to share. So here you have Me With Fluoride:
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