I was laying back in her chair, feeling exposed. She was one of the few who was serious about this, like a technician.
I felt a little offended when they assumed I didn’t know how to do it properly. I’m a grown man. I’ve been around the block.
Ok, you’ve got to go all the way down, she directed.
See how I’m doing it? Her hands were busy, You’ve got go down on both sides.
I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel it.
Then I felt a warmth gush into my mouth.
You’ve got some inflammation in there.
Do you floss every day?
Sometimes, I said. There was no lying. The evidence was in the metallic taste in my mouth.
After my visit, I went home and vowed to be a flossing champion. Twice a day even!
A week later I realized, I hadn’t flossed at all.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
And on this road, a future lesson from my dental professional.