Today was my six months dental check-up and, thankfully, it was another of those, LOOK MA, NO CAVITIES outcomes we all pray for. That means we can relax for another six months and eat cookies, chew ice and forget to brush that second time of the day every now and then without fear of immediate repercussions. It’s always good to get that recurring check-up behind us for another little while.
So what was different about today’s routine dental appointment that is worthy of writing about? Well, it’s like this. I’m VERY FOND of the dental assistant I usually have out of the several that are employed by the practice. She is smart and funny and friendly and one of the good parts of spending an hour twice a year standing on my head with a mouth full of suctions, instruments and hands. She makes it more appealing somehow, or at least more tolerable.
Like ALL of us sporting that double X chromosome, however, she has fallen victim to the dreaded menopause. While it was visited upon me I preferred to simply call it my WARM ZONE and my hot flashes tropical moments. Attaching a little humor to it didn’t take away the trauma bombarding me, but it gave me something to call it that wasn’t steeped in medical jargon that at least conjured up a pleasant image. But I remember those ARC WELD moments and could sympathize … for a little while.
Today when she ushered me into my designated exam room, the minute I walked through the door I felt as though I had stepped into the tundra as far north of the equator as you can get. A fairly strong wind swirled through that tiny room and had there been snow, it would most likely have been blinding. But briefly it felt very good. I had just stepped into the office out of a humid Virginia August day with temperatures already in the 90s.
I sat down. She put a thin little towel around my neck and secured it with 2 alligator clips. I was already beginning to feel my temperature drop.
Not only was the air conditioner set on ARCTIC, she had one of those small ‘As seen on TV’ individual room air conditioner units blowing out cold air at what obviously was 110 mph. It took a very few minutes for a chill to set in.
Dressed in true COVID-style fashion, the dental assistant wore two masks, a scrub cap, a plastic face shield, rubber gloves, a thick paper gown and probably her uniform underneath. As a retired OR nurse of many years I felt her pain. Wearing all that stuff while working vigorously is no picnic. Add to that the frequent surprise of a ‘tropical moment’ and you have a recipe for a core body temperature hovering around 170 degrees Fahrenheit on a good day.
Suddenly my nose was very cold and I couldn’t feel my fingers. I asked her if she had a towel that she might drape over me because I was very cold. She didn’t have one but turned the room air conditioning down a notch, which only seemed to slightly lower the wind speed that was, by then, threatening to blow heavy dental instruments off the tray and send them swirling around the room with a force that would have made Merlin (the magician) proud. I didn’t complain. I was grateful for any improvement.
When I started shaking I tried to stuff my cyanotic arms underneath my hips for warmth as she pushed a button, the dental chair gave a lurch and positioned me nearly standing on my head. That was a relief because I knew I couldn’t go to sleep in that position and I had read somewhere that you go to sleep just before you freeze to death. I very much wanted to stay awake so I could attempt to control my shivering since she was about to begin scraping my teeth with spikey dental cleaning tools very close to my brain. It was an exercise in restraint and physical prowess that may actually have warmed me up a bit from absolute zero to just below freezing. I was grateful.
Our dentist came in, never acknowledging his crossing the border into the land of seals and polar bears (just because I hadn’t seen any didn’t mean they weren’t there). He never shivered once, poked around in my mouth for a few minutes, declared me CAVITY FREE and left as quickly as he had appeared.
The dental assistant, a lovely girl apparently going through a trying time, tilted me back to ‘horizontal normal’ and after a few seconds fighting a bit of aggressive vertigo, I was free to go. She made me an appointment for February.
Leaving the office it occurred to me that February is in the dead of winter and maybe she couldn’t turn the heat down but so far … or maybe by some blessing of nature she will have passed through this tormenting time of her life and emerged out the other side – a butterfly none the worse for wear. I can only hope.
Opening the office door and stepping into 90+ degrees outside I was grateful … not only to be back among the sweating masses but to have survived the surprise rigors of the tundra and a core body temperature of absolute zero. It was a blessing.
My husband waited for me in his car with the air conditioner just one notch above freezing. When I started telling him my story, he turned it WAY down. He is a very considerate man and fortunately has never experienced a tropical moment of his own because he has a different set of chromosomes. But he remembers mine.
My heart really DOES go out to my dental assistant. I hope she survives this confusing time of her life. Most of us do. I hope I never made anyone else uncomfortable during my own WARM TIME but I do remember my husband adding an extra blanket to his side of the bed.
To all of us that have survived … payback is hell.
I’m guessing I‘m not the only double X chromosome person that still remembers those moments and can sympathize. May we all escape our sisters, though, as they go through their own special time spent in the Tropical Twilight Zone.
heimdalco 