So I had a dream I was a dental hygienist. "Big deal!" you say? Well, that depends on what you consider a big deal, and whether you are being sarcastic.
Anyhow, it was probably because I went to the dentist this past Monday (look for the resultant poem "No Cavities, Ma!" which I'm sure will eventually be completed based on that experience). The experience at the dentist's was fine! But this dream was horrific. I was a dental hygienist as I said, but as the dream progressed, something weird was happening with my tools, or with my patient's teeth. The first couple patients of the day were routine. Then I got to my third patient, and my scrape-hook was finding all these tiny holes. The patient was in tears - she'd never had a cavity before!
My next patient was even worse. It was like his left upper molars were literally crumbling under my tooth polisher! Another patient's incisors came loose as I flossed them. It was awful, it kept getting worse and worse and I was just like (to the dentists), please, send me home, I am having a bad day! But the dentists were like: "We're too busy. Hang in there."
Meanwhile, the patients were wailing from what I was doing to them. And in the waiting room, on the way out as I conducted them to the receptionist to schedule the elaborate followups that would now be necessary, and tried to comfort them, they recoiled from me. It was clear they blamed me. But how could it be happening? What was different from every other day? Why me and not the other hygienists? Why would they not just send me home!!
I was having a bad day.
I can still see the trembling chins, the tearful red-rimmed eyes glaring with fear and accusation, hollow cheeks and collapsed lips shamefully hiding the remains of ruined smiles. The look that says: "You did this."
No, I'm kidding. I just made all that up, I never had a dream like that! It was more a day-dream, as I was relaxing in the reclined chair. Day-dreams count, right?
Wow, "Open Day-Dream Journal." Now there's a whole other kind of concept.
I assure you, most of my day-dreams are far more pleasant. But when you're strapped in to that reclined chair, your mind drifts to dark places sometimes.
Anyhow, it was probably because I went to the dentist this past Monday (look for the resultant poem "No Cavities, Ma!" which I'm sure will eventually be completed based on that experience). The experience at the dentist's was fine! But this dream was horrific. I was a dental hygienist as I said, but as the dream progressed, something weird was happening with my tools, or with my patient's teeth. The first couple patients of the day were routine. Then I got to my third patient, and my scrape-hook was finding all these tiny holes. The patient was in tears - she'd never had a cavity before!
My next patient was even worse. It was like his left upper molars were literally crumbling under my tooth polisher! Another patient's incisors came loose as I flossed them. It was awful, it kept getting worse and worse and I was just like (to the dentists), please, send me home, I am having a bad day! But the dentists were like: "We're too busy. Hang in there."
Meanwhile, the patients were wailing from what I was doing to them. And in the waiting room, on the way out as I conducted them to the receptionist to schedule the elaborate followups that would now be necessary, and tried to comfort them, they recoiled from me. It was clear they blamed me. But how could it be happening? What was different from every other day? Why me and not the other hygienists? Why would they not just send me home!!
I was having a bad day.
I can still see the trembling chins, the tearful red-rimmed eyes glaring with fear and accusation, hollow cheeks and collapsed lips shamefully hiding the remains of ruined smiles. The look that says: "You did this."
No, I'm kidding. I just made all that up, I never had a dream like that! It was more a day-dream, as I was relaxing in the reclined chair. Day-dreams count, right?
Wow, "Open Day-Dream Journal." Now there's a whole other kind of concept.
I assure you, most of my day-dreams are far more pleasant. But when you're strapped in to that reclined chair, your mind drifts to dark places sometimes.
Comments
Anyway. I actually like going to the dentist for the most part. I don't even mind the hook! This was just weird.