This doesn't change fact. I don't like doctors.
It also doesn't change the fact that I saw two doctors last week. My dentist and my general practitioner.
My dentist was as cheery as ever. Bright pearly whites (which look like they haven't seen a minute of carnage in their lives), and an infectious, disarming smile. But then, I bet you don't get many patients if you look like the Grim Reaper after a feeding.
She looked inside my mouth. Probed a bit. Asked my favorite rhetorical question: "Does it hurt when I do this?", and proceeded to offer me two courses of treatment for my cracked rear molar.
Option #1: a filling, involving redrilling and refilling every few years. Fun times.
Option #2: a more permanent fix, consisting of a gold cap and slightly more drilling (but a one-time operation), and a higher price tag.
(She offered ceramics too, but--face it--if I'm getting half a tooth drilled out, I'm gonna go for the pirate look every time.)
I opted option two.
Three visits later, I learned--to my great relief--that I would not need a root canal. Yes, the possibility had been raised the first visit, the second visit, and the third visit. This did not help my confidence in the overwhelming, utter finality of my dentist's scientific diagnosis: "Sorry, I don't know for sure. Chew on it for a few weeks and let me know if it still causes you agonizing pain". I love those diagnoses.
Still, I can't complain. The result? No more dentists for six months. Yay.
But wait, I had more fun in my future: my first (!) adult physical exam. (I was still floating with the "no root canal" verdict, so I scheduled it for two days later.)
Turns out, a general exam is very different than a dentist exam, but still generally uncomfortable. They ask lots of probing questions and feign disappointment when you check out as a perfectly healthy 25-year-old (but just wait until you get older! muhahaha). And--regardless of how you answer that doctor's survey--they still stick their instruments into more holes than you probably care to know about.
Then, they wave you out the door, with a reminder to come back in three years for more probing. And--even then--you don't get your labs back for two weeks (meanwhile--for all you know--you're mutating into a naked mole rat).
Oh, and I forgot to mention the vaccination.
I'd been recalcitrant, and hadn't had my Tetanus booster for almost 20 years. Bad me. Fortunately, my friendly local nurse was kind enough to raise the issue. Since I'm newly married, and haven't relegated children to the cold, distant realm of science fiction, a triple whammy (Tetanus, Diphtheria, and Pertussis) couldn't hurt.
"Your shoulder may ache for a couple days," she warned, before driving the needle.
Unfortunately, she didn't warn me that vaccinations may have side-effects besides muscular pain. For me, this meant a weekend spent with a slight fever, moderate case of exhaustion, and severe case of giggles. (I've apologized profusely to my wife.)
And now--two crises behind me--I thank physicians for their service to humanity. I remain, truly yours, a happy human (until my lab results come back, and designate me as the next UNESCO World Heritage Site).
Until next time,
- Daniel
