I was abnormally excited about seeing the dentist today. I was looking forward to the visit. Throughout my life the sensation had usually been the exact opposite. I had dreaded the visits rather than looked forward to them. My main anxiety was invariably related to the inevitable theme of flossing. That is, the statutory time-point in the session when the dentist asked “But, how is it? Do you floss every day?” I was always forced to shamefully admit that I was an irregular flosser. It seemed to be absolutely impossible for me to maintain the habit of regularly passing a dental floss between my teeth.
Now, my life’s plot had taken a twist. For a year—367 days to be exact—there had not passed a single day without me flossing my teeth. I was immensely proud of myself and full of self assurance about being able to face up to the dentist and leave his practice without the feeling of shame and incompetence.
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“Well,” said the dentist as he finished his inspection. “This mouth looks to be caries free.”
I was all smiles. This sounded promising.
“But, how is it?” the dentist continued and I was excited to finally be able to reply positively to the question that I was expecting to follow. “Don’t you drink a bit too much coffee? Your teeth are terribly stained.”
The smile disappeared from my lips and I was about to cry out “But I floss daily.” It would futile, though. It seemed quite impossible to please these damn dentists.
