At The Dentist

I went to the dentist yesterday morning before work. I've never been frightened of the dentist, it just never occurred to me to be frightened. It wasn't until I was an adult that I learned that people were scared of the dentist. What a funny thing, I thought, when I first heard about that.

We talked about dementia, death and crime. I'm surprised how many times that I have heard just lately, from very different people, that an abusive childhood is no excuse for criminal behaviour later in life. Even mental illness, I've heard people say, "I'm sick of people using mental illness as an excuse for getting away with crime." It is kind of sad, an indication of how mean (or scared) (or stupid) our society has become.

Not responsible for you actions, doesn't seem to mean anything to anyone any more, unless it is referring to driving a monster 4WD, or running air-conditioning when the temperature gets a fraction over normal, or your unchecked consumerism, or your Islamaphobia barely covering your racism, then, of course, it is perfectly okay.

Still, the conversation was great, even if I could only contribute to a lesser extent, as you would understand. Fingers in the mouth. The suction hose. I love that sucking on my tongue, that round end, blup, blup, blup. I love the water, all that water in my mouth on which I never gag as it is all sucked out again before I do. On the edge, the water is continually threatening to make me drown, choke, cough, but never does. I love that. It's wet and fresh, like being the source of a river way up there in those hills.

I just had a clean. That pointy scraper tool. Zzzzzz! Sends my teeth nerves on edge, and there was plenty of that, right around my mouth and back again, and then around again, but you just have to relax and it is okay. Don't be a baby. I never have problems with my teeth. I had plenty done when I was a kid, before you say having no problems is why I have no fear.

I like my dentist, he's nice. He's a gentleman, very polite.