I’ve been flossing about as often as I’ve been going to the gym — which is to say, probably the last time I did it was November — so I was dreading this morning’s checkup. It turned out to be nothing to worry about; a little staining from coffee, but that was it.*
* I really shouldn’t have as good of teeth as I do. For starters, when I moved to Phoenix the prospect of trying to search out a dentist weighed on me so much that I just kept putting it off. For more than six years. When I finally manned up and went to the dentist: lots of scraping, but no cavities. (I remain obsessed about the possibility of receding gums, however.)
When I was walking out, I caught a glimpse of a patient in the waiting room that made me remember another reason why I like Dr. Spigner so much: He’s like the go-to dentist for patients with developmental disabilities and neuromuscular disorders, who I imagine require extra attention (and, sometimes, sedation dentistry to minimize inadvertent movement).
My friend S loves our dentist so much that she made up a song about him. If you catch me in person, I’ll try to imitate S, but she does it performs it much better than I ever could. But if you want his info: It’s here. (He needs to update his staff page. My favorite hygienist — the one who thinks the downstairs of the Grunow building is haunted — isn’t even listed!) So far I’ve referred my boss — and Jeff doesn’t like anyone — and two co-workers, who all love the place, too. (If you join the crowd — all the cool kids are doing it! — tell them I sent you. I’ll have free toothbrushes for life.)
|WHAT SAM WORE: 2-27-12|
|The shirt: Long-sleeved cotton T-shirt, on clearance at Hollister.com.
(Shopping in the stores in person makes me feel old.)
|The pants: Light wash slim straight jeans from Uniqlo, New York.|
|The shoes: Sneakers by Puma, my Christmas gift from Big Booty Judy.|