As I lay reclined in the chair looking up at the blue sky and the palm tree,  I found myself wincing at the tugging at my head. Cool water splashed my face and ran past my ears and down my neck. A face came into view and peered intently at me.  Against the hushed conversation in the background a sound track played a vocal piece by Cher, no doubt the one in which she appeared in some black gauze and tape outfit while lip synching on a navy battleship.

For me this Cher video remains high on the list of most convincing bits of evidence that there is no God in heaven. Surely no master plan for the universe can include this performance.

Suddenly a shrill, piercing whine zinged into my consciousness and resonated in my skull. The sonic waves seemed to converge to a focus on my auditory apparatus. As bad as it was, it did  block the Cher sound track and for that I was grateful.

I looked away from the illuminated image of the palm tree in the ceiling light panel and focused on the looming snout of the dental hygienist. Sitting over two coal black nasal passages I could see twin distorted reflections in her glasses.  A gaping oral cavity ringed with teeth and filled with fingers and tools. The ultrasonic device that she was using conducted mind numbing vibrations into my head all the while irrigating my face.

Just another day.