I want to be your happiness enabler
I went to the dentist again this morning. It was a 7AM appointment and I was not in my right mind, but I still feel deep shame and take full responsibility for what I am about to confess to you.
First of all, I want to say that I was under the influence of some very heavy anesthesia. So heavy and far reaching, in fact, that my left eyelid is still numb and I have to think very hard to close it. And, it was very disconcerting to lie there, nervously glancing over at the cotton balls staring at me menacingly from their glass jar. I was left all alone with them for a very. long. time. As I repeatedly removed and replaced the huge dorky sunglasses that they force you to wear (to protect you from the decay spray? to block out the light from the heat lamp?), I thought, “what if I die here? What if I drown in my own drool? What if I die of Cotton Ball Shock?”
But I didn’t. Maybe it would have been better if I had. Because what Occured was so horrible, I do not know if I will be able to Move On (I love random capitalization, don’t you?).
As I lay there with the rubber dam stretched across my face and the dorky sunglasses over my eyes, I felt an itch. On my ear. I reached up towards it. But I felt Something Else that was NOT my ear. I lingered there too long before I realized What I was Touching. I was disoriented, okay? I pulled away quickly in shame and horror. I had just groped my dentist. They sit there in their little rolly chairs pulled up right close to you and you are laying down RIGHT THERE. Its a recipe for disaster, folks. But let’s face it. I am a dentist molester. Poor, sweet, Canadian Dr. McCashew. Our once innocent relationsip has been forever tainted.