...and call me Fido, 'cause what a good girl I am. I finally steeled the reserve to get my teeth (properly) scaled and sandblasted. But before you get the wrong idea thinking this star is a commendation to self ~ it is NOT.
Rather, it is posthumously bestowed upon the goddess of Oral hygiene, Robin, who did such a spectacular job causing me NO discomfort at my first ever braced cleaning that I would hug her had this not been our first encounter (and as strangers, no matter how intimate they may be with your mouth, tend to have requests for restraining orders against panting, pathetic patients on speed dial)!
Perhaps I should jump back for a second with the delayed preface that "I LOATHE CLEANINGS. " Kick me in the shins, please. Slam my fingers in the car door, Ya! Tie me up and throw burning coals in my lap...okay, you get the picture. But what's with the amazing capabilities of such otherwise pleasant-looking people to immediately find that last nerve and pick, pick, pick, till you want to die, die, DIE!!!! Normally I give them a heads up of the specific area that triggers the " Oh! I WILL bite you" reflex, but then they seem annoyed you spoiled their sport and zero in on it like a master marksman. (Sadomasochistic something-or-others... )
So imagine the surprise when, with great trepidation, I explained my sensitive bits and she listened. And.....(angel choirs break forth) tread gently and carefully with caution and concern. A rare gem, she is. Obviously, I had reception bold, italicize AND highlight that Robin is to perform my next cleaning - which is booked - & I can't wait.
You know when you find the right spot to scratch on your favourite pooch, the eyes role back & that ole hind leg gets thumping a furious tattoo? Ahhhhhhhhh!
8 years ago