ON THE BICUSPID OF INSANITY — Nightly’s Myah Ward emails: I hate going to the dentist. I hate the scraping sound the metal instruments make on teeth. I hate having someone’s hand in my mouth and feeling like I constantly have to swallow. I hate being asked for my six-month life update while said hands are in my mouth. (This is nothing against the kind people who clean my teeth and are just doing their jobs.) Now that I’m fully vaccinated, I figured my excuses for delaying an appointment had run out. It’s been at least a year and a half since my last cleaning. Even so, when I walked into the office today, my brain jumped into action. Only person in the waiting room. Nice. I walked up to the front desk. “Let me take your temperature,” the receptionist said. “Good on all the Covid questions?” Taking shortcuts, I see. Not even asking me the questions. When I was called back for my cleaning, I noticed an air purifier purring on the floor. The hygienist was wearing a mask, a full gown, face shield and gloves. Seems safe. The hygienist told me I could take off my mask now that I’m in the chair. Wow, I think this is the first time I’ve been unmasked with a stranger indoors in ages. Wonder if she’s been vaccinated. Not my business. She asked me for my life update. Are you still in school? Do you have a job? Oh, where are you working? You’re living at home? Can’t even have small talk without addressing Covid. Why am I clenching my hands? Relax. Then the dentist came in. Same job questions, same answer. Then he got right to it. “So did you get Covid?” No. “Vaccinated?” Yes. “Oh, which one?” Pfizer. “I just got Johnson & Johnson on Tuesday,” he said. “One and done!” Not fully protected yet. Takes at least four weeks for J&J. Shut up, brain. “You guys got Pfizer, right?” he asked the hygienist. She nodded. Oh, so she is vaccinated! Quadruple protection with all those layers. The hygenist told me my teeth looked great. Ha, that’s because my dentist avoidance this past year actually made me floss more. I hate how I analyzed every little thing in that office. I hate how I obsessed over masks and vaccines. I hate how I can’t even talk about my job without mentioning a virus. I hate how I can’t do a simple, routine thing without it staring me down: Covid, Covid, Covid. It’ll be nice to hate the dentist again just for the teeth scraping and hands in my mouth.
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