Following last weeks little accident I have finally been to the dentist.
Visiting the dentist is not something I particularly enjoy, as it is one of lifes irrational fears. Like really tall women, wasps and nuclear weapons.
As I lay back into the chair I began to pray for a swift end to the treatment. I carefully explained to my dentist that I had chipped a bit off the side of my tooth where I have an old filling, and she had a quick root around in my mouth, much like dentists tend to do.
“Oh, I see what you’ve done, you chipped off the side of your tooth where you’ve got that old filling.” she stated, calling on all twenty minutes of her dentistry schooling.
“aas wo aye sai…” I pointed out.
“Right, we’re going to trim a bit off that filling, so we can bond a new one. There’s no decay, so we won’t bother with numbing it first. It should be fine.”
Should?
SHOULD?!
Having a dentist tell you that what they are not anaesthetising you because it should be fine, is like being told not to worry because your parachute should open. ‘Should’ is not sufficient. I want to know that every conceivable precaution has been taken. I was just about to make this point when she began drilling.
It is difficult to bring attention to your perfectly valid point, clearly and concisely, when your mouth contains two cotton wool balls, part of a woman’s latex-covered hand and at least two medical instruments.
“Errrrr…” I began, looking directly at her through the nifty safety spectacles the had given me. This got her attention. She stopped drilling and looked at me.
“Is it hurting already?” she asked, with a disdainfully questioning look that I imagine all Jehovah’s Witnesses are quite familiar with.
A closed question.
Not, “What is the problem?” or “How much does it hurt?” but a question that made it impossible for me to give her anything other than the one word answer she wanted.
Perhaps she had been properly trained after all?
She probably skipped the lecture on “How to anaesthetise your patient to your satisfaction, and more importantly, theirs.” but she was clearly present and correct during the all important, “Time is Money: Stop you patient asking stupid questions when the meter is running.”
“errr, oooo..” I responded, shaking my head and wondering if I could possibly make my point using only vowel sounds.
With that she drilled onwards, until the drilling was complete and a new filling could be added.
No, it did not physically hurt, but that is not the point. It COULD have hurt, and so the pain I suffered was purely psychological, which as anyone who has yet to suffer any real physical pain will tell you, is much much worse.
It is episodes like this that ensure I continue to have nightmares about receiving dental treatment from a six foot two female dentist in a wasp infested surgery during a nuclear holocaust.
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18 comments
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Lin · January 30, 2008 at 9:00 am
Irratio
nal fears … like having a fault with your car, going to see a garage mechanic, telling them exactly what is wrong with said vehicle and then them taking 2 days to inspect your darling motor (which you have had to cancel appointments through) and them then telling you exactly what you told them was wrong. Then having to make an appointment, obviously for next week, and at the end being charged not only for the problem but other little bits and pieces because they think you are a stupid female. Donkeys!!
Glammer · January 30, 2008 at 9:05 am
Karma is sometimes a Very Impressive Thing.
StokeyPerson · January 30, 2008 at 9:33 am
Very Freudian – your childhood sounds like a can of worms in my professional opinion.
Oli · January 30, 2008 at 9:46 am
It least it’s better than, “this won’t hurt, please close your eyes” While holding a syringe the size of my head up.
Keef · January 30, 2008 at 9:51 am
is your dentist a six foot two Amazon then?
My old dentist was a very cute Indian lady who was not only very easy on the eye but had a gossamer touch. Two years ago she left and was replaced by the current character who’s also Indian but that’s where the resemblance ends. I get the impression that he was pressured to be a dentist by his family but still harbors a childhood dream of being a navvy.
Andy W · January 30, 2008 at 11:41 am
Angry. If you get a dentist you trust your fears melt away.
I had a brute when I was a young child, who left me with a fear that took 13 years to subside, during which time I never went to the dentist once, preferring to brush twice a day and hope.
Than, upon moving to a new town I was recommended to my current dentist. He immediately went about assuaging all my fears so successfully that when I went a couple of years ago, and had to get an old filling re-done, like you I was able to do it without anaesthetic/numbing, but in my case with no pain, no fear and only mild discomfort.
Now my concern and fear is focussed on his hygienist, whose scraping and poking with small metal pointers hurts way more than anything my dentist has managed to do with whacking great big drills and clamps.
When a dentist can take a power tool to your mouth with no pain, yet his young, attractive hygienist can make you ‘just rinse’ what appears to be a pint of blood, something is seriously askew with your sense of who to fear within those tiled torture chambers.
Admin comment by Mr Angry · January 30, 2008 at 12:46 pm
Lin – People stopped thinking I was a stupid female when I grew a goatee at 19.
Glammer – I know, I must have been a real shit in a previous life.
Stokeyperson – It was rarely a can of worms. In fact my mum rarely cooked with tins of anything.
Oli – Which followed “turn the lights off and drink this…”
Keef – No she is normal height, thankfully.
Andy W – If she would just stop the evil cackling, that would be a start.
Zorro · January 30, 2008 at 12:48 pm
The wasp thing should wear off by the time you’re about 40. The Dentist thing will probably be with you forever!
Megan · January 30, 2008 at 1:56 pm
There was a dentist in Alaska whose ads went: “We specialize in nervous patients!” and went on to detail how they have virtual reality goggles and soothing aromatherapy. I was too scared to try ‘em.
Admin comment by Mr Angry · January 30, 2008 at 2:04 pm
Zorro – 40!? That is like a gazillion years away!
Megan – Treating them or creating them?
gnarlyswine · January 30, 2008 at 2:15 pm
Would a six foot two female mutant radioactive wasp dentist be sligtly problematic then – I thought thats all you can get on the NHS nowadays.
My previous dentist here in the land of moose and permafrost did all of the relaxation stuff , Tvs in the surgery , nice assistants , mild gas if required soothing music etc.
Kind of undone when the Dentist starts to go nuts about the politician on the news and seems to be affected by a hand tremmor that would be best suited to mixing paint when he is giving you an injection (Im not kidding about this either).
Oddly enough I now go elsewhere.
Im surprised you couldnt talk with the cotton wool, latex glove and medical instruments though. Isnt it quite similar to the ball gag and gimp mask?
tallsandi · January 30, 2008 at 2:39 pm
Well, as a 6′ tall woman, I cna’t wait to run into you so I can watch the wee scaredy man have a fit.
Dominic · January 30, 2008 at 4:34 pm
Actually, I’d be worried by the “Is it hurting ALREADY?” question coming right after an assurance that it won’t hurt.
Surely, if she really believed it would be painless, she would have just asked “Is it hurting?”
skinnyskinny · January 30, 2008 at 5:54 pm
Tip: the “No need to anaesthetise for this tooth I’m about to remove because it’s dead, so you won’t feel it” is also utter utter bollocks.
Tip: you’ll only fall for that once.
Badger · January 30, 2008 at 5:56 pm
Flapchuggers. Ahoy!
B.
Four Dinners · January 30, 2008 at 7:53 pm
What the hell is a ‘Flapchugger’?
Do I want to know?
Now you think you’re Jack Nicholson?
Ubermouth · January 31, 2008 at 6:13 pm
Clearly YOU need to go to dentist patients school. You grab the dentist by the testes or breasts and then ,giving a little squeeze, say ” Now we are NOT going to hurt each other,are we?”
I am livid » Blog Archive » Deep · February 6, 2008 at 7:30 am
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