After ten years without a trip to a dentist, I decided to look for a local office after my new job’s insurance kicked in. This conversation happened upon my first phone call to a dentist’s office in the next town over. The nice woman asked me to provide some basic information, and the question of my insurance came up.

I was on break at work at the time and thus hadn’t thought to have my insurance card handy to give her the information. Since I was wearing gloves and my work pants had some odd back pockets, I struggled to fish my wallet out. I felt I was taking a little long, so I decided to break the silence.

Me: “So, how are you doing today?”

There was a long silence. I figured the woman didn’t hear me somehow, and I was willing to just not ask again as my wallet was now in my hand.

Lady: “Oh, were you talking to me?”

Me: “Yeah! How you doin’?”

Lady: *Suddenly very giddy* “Oh! I’m doing good, thank you! How are you?”

The rest of the conversation went normally. I imagine this woman deals with a lot of rude people in her day to day or just isn’t used to being asked such things. Either way, the joy in her voice was enough to make my day.

I’m in my mid-thirties and have been seeing the same dentist all my life, and he was fresh out of dental school when we started.

One day during a routine appointment, he asks me where I’m working.

Me: “I’m working dietary at [Local Nursing Home].”

Dentist: “Are you doing an apprenticeship, or did you study dietetics in college?”

Me: “Oh, nothing like that. I’m just the dishwasher.”

Dentist: “No, you’re not just the dishwasher. You have a very important job. You keep things clean for the residents, which is really important.”

I love my dentist.

It’s December, and I’ve had to book time off for dental surgery. Normally, the recovery is two or three days, but due to the delightful combo of a tiny mouth, nerves that are about 30% larger than normal, and roots that are 50% longer than normal (which puts the root tips essentially touching the facial nerve along the jawline), the surgeon told me to plan to be out a week minimum.

I’m nervous about dentists anyway, so I am on edge before they even start. Thankfully, they knock me out for it, so I am only vaguely aware at the very end when they are putting the last stitches in.

They move me to a recovery room so I can wake up a bit before going home, and I get a text from my boss. Keep in mind, I’m loopy as heck still.

Boss: “Hey, just to let you know, I’ve calculated the year-end bonuses. It will be added to your final paycheck.”

In my drugged state, I think I have just been fired, and just before Christmas! I panic, of course, and my brain starts going on wild tangents about me not being able to pay my bills, losing my house, etc.

I look at my phone again, and only then do I see the text my boss sent immediately after the first one.

Boss: “You will also be getting a raise, so you will see that on your first January paycheck.”

At the time, all I felt was relief. But once the sedation wore off, I found it hilarious. I told the company VP about it, and he laughed and told me I would never be fired because I know how to do so many aspects of everything in the office besides selling policies and that the office wouldn’t be able to function without me.

It’s definitely nice to be appreciated, but good lord, that’s a lot of pressure!

CONTENT WARNING: Dental Work, Needles

When I was thirteen or fourteen, I went to the dentist and ended up needing a cavity filled. I am NOT good with needles, so when he gave me the shot to numb me, I was struggling to stay calm. I also have an extremely small mouth, so some dentists get very frustrated.

When the first shot was in, I kind of went numb, but when he started drilling, I could feel everything. I was making noise to get him to stop, and he decided to do another shot to numb it more. Nope, I could still feel everything, even though my tongue and lips were numb.

Both shots hurt like crazy, so when he tried to go in with a third shot, I couldn’t stand it. I started yelling no and yelling not to touch me. I was in a full-on panic attack, hyperventilating and crying.

The dentist went and got my mom, and she couldn’t calm me down, either. So, what did she do?

She slapped me!

It shocked the h*** out of me, but it surprised me so much that it broke me out of the panic attack. The cavity did get filled with the help of some gas.

When we were leaving, I looked at my mom.

Me: “I can believe you slapped me!”

Mom: “Well, it works in the movies!”

I just laughed at the absurdity of it, but it worked!

I overhear this exchange at the dentist’s office this morning.

Receptionist: “Okay, how does 10:30 on Tuesday, December eighth sound?”

Patient: “What?”

Receptionist: “How does 10:30 on Tuesday, December eighth sound?”

Patient: “Yeah, that should work. Is that a Monday?”

Receptionist: “No, it’s a Thursday.”