A dental hygienist once imparted a piece of wisdom to me as I was anxiously waiting in the dentist’s chair for my mouth to go numb for my first root canal.

“You know, Roger,” she says as she taps the side of my puffy-feeling jaw. “You don’t have to floss all of your teeth.”

Even while dreading the root canal to come, I found her statement somewhat confusing. First off, I go by Duane not Roger but seeing I would have sounded like a drunk with my lip drooping like it was, I let it go. But second, and most extraordinary was that a hygienist, whose job it is to make me floss, would say such a thing to a man about to have the guts of his teeth sucked out and replaced with cement.

I gave her a curious look made even more curiously by the slobber that was dribbling down my chin from my numb lip.

“Nope. You don’t have to floss all your teeth,” she repeated for effect. “Just the ones you want to keep.”

Boom! Dentist chair words of wisdom. Cue the sound of the drill and the smell of burning enamel and the feeling that the dentist was drilling to the very center of my soul.

That was about four years ago. Since then I’ve had three root canals, none of which hurt my mouth but all of which hurt my backside where my wallet is kept. Even with insurance, dental bills will hit you where it hurts.

Today, at two thirty (or as I call it, tooth-hurty) I sit in the dentist chair again, this time to have a molar removed in preparation to get an implant. It seems my crowns have cracked on the other side so I had to take drastic action since I like to eat and teeth are used in chewing. While my upper teeth are great and give me that winning smile, my bottom teeth, hidden away in the chewing portion of my mouth aren’t so good.

So how did this happen? Okay mom and dad, this is where you call in the children for the cautionary tale. First off, I dipped for many years, quitting about fifteen years ago. I figured regular brushing would take care of it. I was wrong. Then, compounding it, I didn’t do regular dentist trips until one hurt. Hey, once they hurt, you’re too late.

So today, I get my left molar ripped out and a bovine bone put in its place. Then I wait four months before they can put the implant in and another four months before they can crown it. I never realized it took so long. I thought they just yanked the tooth and screwed a new one in. It seems there’s science and medicine involved rather than just a pair of pliers and an electric screw driver.

Anyway, if you’re thinking of it around tooth-hurty today, say a little prayer for me. And kids, remember, you don’t have to floss all your teeth …

Contact Duane Sherrill at news@smithvillereview.com