"I need to measure your pocket."

Spread out in the dentist's chair, a suction tube hanging out of my open mouth for a routine cleaning, I wasn't sure if I heard the dental hygienist correctly. It sounded like, "I need to measure your pocket."

"What?" I asked except it sounded more like aaahhhh? with the tube impeding my speech.

The hygienist, who hovered above with various sharp metal instruments only inches from my eye, repeated herself. "I need to measure your pocket."

Even though her words were slightly muffled from the surgical mask over her mouth there was no mistaking her. A pocket? What's a pocket doing in my mouth?? It sounded like a problem of a highly personal nature!! I wanted to ask more but I was at the mercy of the suction tube.

A parade of items passed through my brain, items that one would normally find in a mouth. A tongue . . . teeth . . . a toothbrush . . . a pocket? It was like a game of one of these things is not like the other.

When the cleaning was all over I saw the small heap of bloodied gauze on the tray before me, my gums aching. "Did you say that I had a pocket in my mouth?"

"Yes. About five millimeters where the gum has receded towards the bone and where food gets trapped. Just floss more and it will get better."

"Oh."

So I have a pocket in my mouth. I'm sure all of you out there were really burning for that information but it was news to me. I thought I'd share.