Don’t try selling me anything unless you’re a cute little ringlet-headed child with a brown vest, red hat, and a box full of cookies. I’m like a bloodhound; I can smell the sell from a mile away.
An enticing $59 price tag for exams, x-rays, and a cleaning, sent me to a local dentist for a check-up today, as well as to assess the pain I’d been experiencing in my lower left molar.
After the x-ray, the dentist, a woman who couldn’t talk without gently rubbing my back, showed me the multiple areas needing a crown and two fillings.
Enter skeptical Jaclynn.
Last year’s dentist didn’t see me needing a crown in that area. How come the dentist left before my cleaning, and the front desk person was discussing payment options and wanting me to schedule a procedure right then?
Years ago, I took my red Ford S-10 pickup truck in to trade for a commuter car. No longer needing a four-wheel drive vehicle, I headed with a friend to try for a straight-across trade.
A sporty Nissan Sentra SE-R caught my eye; I took it for a spin, loved its speed and compactness, and went inside the dealership to hash out the details. After three trips to the back office “to talk,” the salesman said, “I’m unable to do it.” I needed to put cash on the line, too, he said.
He almost had me, but my friend was more robust, “Jaclynn. Your truck will sell far more than that car. Get up and go.” The dizzying trance broke; I stood sadly, knowing he was right and that I wouldn’t leave with the car.
I took a couple of steps, then heard, “Wait.”
That Sentra was a fun car.
Will I send the x-rays to my previous, trusted dentist for a second opinion? Likely.
Two takeaways from the appointment; floss with toothpaste to get the fluoride up there, and don’t rinse the toothpaste at night.
And I need to get a mouthguard.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 