The Cavitron

So I went to the dentist the other day for my 6-month checkup and cleaning. I am horrendously bad at flossing, so I expected the worst kind of news. But, despite that, I actually kind of enjoy a good tooth-cleaning. To me it's kind of intimate, having a young dental technician stick her hands in my mouth. Really. I'm not kidding.

But then you never feel quite as defenseless either. It's difficult to maintain any self-decency when your mouth is gaping and you're drooling all over your blue paper bib. To make matters worse, right when I walk in I'm handed a pair of Elvis sunglasses to put on. These were for my eye protection, allegedly, but they actually looked like a hybrid between Elvis-in-Vegas and aviator sunglasses, à la Tom Cruise in Top Gun. Lucky for me, I make those glasses look good!

So I lie down in the chair and she gives my mouth a cursory glance with some prodding and poking from her official dentist poking metal thingy. Then she says, "How often do you floss?" I quickly did the moral arithmetic to see how far I could stretch the truth without outright lying and going to any burning places in the afterlife.

"Twice a week," says I.

She grimaces then says, "You should be flossing twice daily."

I couldn't believe it! Who in the world flosses twice daily!? (Besides my sister, who apparently flosses after every meal) She then says for me to open my mouth because she's going to remove my plaque build-up... get this ... using the Cavitron! How can you take something serious called the Cavitron? It sounds like something from Star Trek.

She then sticks the Cavitron in my mouth. Despite having a stupid name, this little machine is nothing but business. It's like a water pick connected to a nuclear reactor. She flipped the switch and suddenly my teeth are being drilled by a water laser. It sliced the plaque off like Swiss cheese and probably took most of my enamel with it. The whole time I was keeping completely still, since I figured she would cut straight through my cheek if she slipped.

I tried to act cool the whole time, but I'm sure she noticed my fingers digging into the plastic armrest. It's not that I dislike going to the dentist. Like I said, I actually enjoy it. But this Cavitron 3000 thing sprays directly into your gums and fills your mouth up with water. Plus I had to hold the suction tube in my own mouth while she's doing this. I couldn't help but think that I should be getting a discount or something, since I was working on my own mouth.

But I ended up being pretty content with the whole operation, when the dust settled. After using the Cavitron, she also used the good ole' fashioned metal pick, and then even flossed my teeth for me. I felt like I was getting the full treatment.

I mean, seriously, I think I would like to one day have a full-day body overhaul. This would include a haircut, shave, massage, pedicure/manicure, steam bath, dental cleaning, chiropractor, facial, mud bath, and psychiatric session. Hey, and why not throw in an acupuncture session and one of those hot rocks treatments, while we're at it. If I ever become emperor, that's what I'll do.

Hey, and how about that Star Wars, Episode III?