But as people are rebuilding society, you don't see much about your friendly neighborhood dentist or eye doctor. Not even on Revolution, where they're fifteen years post-worldwide-blackout, and have a society. There were dentists and eye doctors before electricity, and some of them have got to survive the whatever simply based on odds, yet they don't show up much. (Feel free to correct me in the comments before I start writing the story of a dentist in the zombie apocalypse.) We did see a library last week on Revolution, so maybe it's coming.
Anyway, that's my roundabout way of saying that I got the teeth cleaning of a lifetime this week. I went to a new dentist, just around the corner (near the dollar store), and that man cleaned the hell out of my teeth. You know how at the end they use a flavored paste to polish your teeth? Not this guy. He used a sand-like substance - had a whole bit about laying on the beach and then some guy comes along and throws sand in your mouth. It's like he sandblasted my little teefers. There was a thing on one of my front teeth that my old dentist thought might grow up to be a cavity someday. It turns out that it was a stain that's just been hanging out on my front tooth for years. I keep looking in the mirror to marvel at how shiny my teeth are.
The reason for me getting off my ass and making a dentist appointment? Well, you know how sometimes your gums bleed when you brush your teeth and so the toothpaste comes out pink? Well last week, the toothpaste came out gray. I figured it was either a disintegrating filling or the blackness of my soul leaking out through my gums. It was neither. The dentist said it was probably just some tartar leaking out. And I have no new cavities, so I could've totally gotten away with blowing this off even longer. Except that my TMJ doctor threatened to tie me down to the chair and clean my teeth at my last appointment, so I guess I was pretty overdue. I suppose if the tartar starts coming out by itself, you really should see a dental professional.
Just something to remember for the post-apocalpse.
And speaking of eye-doctors, I saw my regular eye doctor a couple of months ago and told him about the crack on my retina. As he was examining me, he said it looked like I'd had a crack on my retina. I thought he was totally messing with me. By then it was healed (according to the specialist), and my eye doctor is that kind of guy. We go way back. We joke with each other. I send him hilarious postcards.
Here's the postcard I sent him from my honeymoon, that he has hanging in the office:
If you can't read it, it says, "As you know, the Eiffel Tower is very tall this time of year. It is also very cold and tourists who try to lick it get stuck."
So of course I assume he's messing with me when he said he could see something on my retina.
And then he took a picture and showed me:
So anyway, in the post-apocalypse stuff you always see people in glasses and they look fine. It's never those god-awful glasses you get because you're not going to spend $600 on nice frames that you're only going to wear on your way to the bathroom to put in your contacts. But you're going to run out of disposable contacts in the post-apocalypse, you know. Hell, my glasses aren't even the right prescription anymore. But who cares unless society crumbles and I'm stuck wearing the damn things. I actually have nice frames, but when you're as nearsighted as I am, the lenses cost as much as a short vacation and I don't wear them because they weigh too much and hit me in just the wrong spot for my migraines, so I'm just going to have to take the chance.
Fortunately, the zombies will probably get me while I'm out trying to get more migraine medication before I run out of disposable contacts, so it's really a non-issue.