She said, “My boy, I think someday You’ll find a way To make your natural tendencies pay You’ll be a dentist You have a talent for causin’ things pain Son, be a dentist People will pay you to be inhumane Your temperament’s wrong for the priesthood And teaching would suit you still less Son, be a dentist
You’ll be a success
– “Dentist!” from Little Shop of Horrors
I feel bad for dentists. Of all the medical professionals out there, I image patients dislike visiting the dentist the most. At least that’s how I feel. Unfortunately, I found myself in the dentist’s chair yesterday morning for a cleaning. Is there anything worse than the sound of the hygienist’s pick (that’s the technical term, right?) scraping the plaque out from in between your teeth? Maybe fingernails on a chalkboard, but that’s about it.
Remember when you were a kid and you got to wear Mickey Mouse sunglasses to keep the bright light from the lamp above the dentist’s chair out of your eyes? You could pick from a variety of flavors for your flouride treatment, from root beer to bubble gum to cherry. At the end of your appointment, you’d receive a goody bag that contained a toothbrush, dental floss and a excess of stickers. Visiting the pediadontist was a veritable party!