Going to the Dentist - The Early Years

I first wrote about my experiences with the dentist several years ago (A Visit With The Dentist*). In this follow-up piece, I'd like to take you back to the time where it all started....

Growing up, my parents didn't have a whole lot of money. So, instead of going to a traditional dentist like most of my friends, I would often find myself at the community dental clinic (kinda of the same way they used to send me to the Barber School for a haircut). The random screams that I would occasionally hear coming from "the chair" terrorized me as I sat quietly in the waiting room. A couple of times, I almost bolted towards the exit door. I would try to distract myself by trying to read about the latest celebrity happenings via the assorted People magazines. But it was a futile effort.....

Eventually, the dental assistant would call my name across the crowded room. And then, the fun would begin. I would nervously follow her back into the torture chamber. I viewed this as a sadistic payback for all of those Tasty-Klairs and Reese Cups that I routinely consumed. As if being robustly husky wasn't enough! Anyway, once I was seated, I was be outfitted with one of those paper dental bibs. I appreciated this because I really didn't want to get any blood on my Led Zeppelin shirt.

A short time later, the dentist-du-jour would come in and greet me. He was usually very upbeat. This is probably because I would be the one on the receiving end of the punishment. He would start off the pain session by poking around the the inside of my mouth with a sharp, pointed piece of steel. Inevitably, he would find a cavity in one of my teeth. We both knew when he found it because I would nearly jump out of the chair as soon as he touched it. He would then try to lighten up the mood by giving me some uplifting words of encouragement like, "Ah, ha! I think someone's getting a filling today!"

Today, the numbing process is pretty much standard prior to any any dental procedure.  But back then, there was a time or two that we just bypassed the Novocain and reached right for the drill. I often wondered if my friends with the good dental plans had to endure this enhanced-agony option. The dentist would usually try to sugarcoat things by saying, "Oh, this is just a small cavity. No need to numb you up today." Yeah, easy for him to say!

Now, to be fair, there were times when I would get the juice. But this also brought another set of problems.The sight of the government-subsidized dentist coming at me with this long needle was almost too much to absorb. It looked like something you might use to inject cortisone into a racehorse. Sometimes, the needle was worse than the actual dental work. He would stab this thing into my gums like he was auditioning for the lead role in Psycho. The good news is that after this assault, my mouth would go comfortably numb. This was especially beneficial when the drill would occasionally miss a tooth and plunge into a fleshy part of my mouth. Between the needle and the drill, my poor mouth didn't stand a chance,

Throughout my youth, I went through this routine time and time again. By the time I was fourteen, I had been drilled more times than Jenna Jamison. It was quite ridiculous. While my friends would go for a check-up every six months, it seemed like I was getting a filling every few weeks. I guess what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, huh? The jury's still out on that. But one thing's for sure...I still dread that trip to the dentist's office.......

kw

* http://kensmouthpiece.blogspot.com/2010/04/visit-with-dentist.html