An occupational hazard of the best kind

I happen to love my two dental offices where I practice my profession, but this morning was sheer torture for me. Not because of the miserable migraine that has persistently reared its ugly head for the past four days. Not because of a particularly difficult patient load. Not because I ran behind schedule -- that would do it, all right, but not today. Why then, you ask? Because today's pick of the radio stations has played one Zumba song after another, sometimes even back to back! Hips Don't Lie...Smooth...I Gotta Feeling....Boom Boom Pow (I use the edited version of course!)...and the best/worst of all...Say Hey (I Love You). Don't get me wrong, a little mental Zumba never hurt anyone, but can you imagine the angst of holding sharp dental instruments in someone's mouth, concentrating on the removal of a tenacious calculus deposit in a location of difficult accessibility, when without warning, your favorite samba song starts to play? Or imagine being in the middle of a detailed educational explanation of the progression of periodontal disease, when, Heaven forbid, Shakira all but belly dances into the room? Torture, I tell you. I had to fight the urge to throw down my suction tip and water syringe and run to the sterilization room across the hall to just DO IT. But please, oh please, don't anyone touch that dial! ;-)