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Monday, June 4, 2012

A tryst with the Dentist


I am very intimidated by dentists. So much so that every time I go to church for a confession of my sins, I pray to God beforehand that the priest may not send me to the dentist for my penance. I think I owe this unpleasant visit to the dentist to Preeti, my sis., who convinced me that, among others, we should also take good care of our teeth. I am still not convinced that I should thank her for the advice.  

However, I found myself waiting for my turn at the dentist’s hoping that it would never come. It brought back memories of another time and another place where I was summoned by the then Principal of my school for being caught while trying to escape the class with the intentions of bunking it. The wait outside the Principal’s office was more agonising than the juiciest of the cane hammering I was subjected to. When I began comparing, I preferred the waiting outside the Principal’s office to the one outside the Dentist’s. Finally, when my turn did come, I resisted the urge to gather my belongings and dash for the Exit door to the free world. The dentist welcomed me with a smile and when I told her that I had come for a dental check-up, she beckoned me to ‘The Chair’ and said ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’ I would’ve misconstrued the statement altogether if I wasn’t so daunted by the sight of ‘The Chair’ that seem to come straight out of a sci-fi movie with all the gizmos attached to it. Once I was comfortable in ‘The Chair’ (I am using the word comfortable here for the lack of a better word; I should probably have used the word ‘seated’), the lights came on and I thought I saw horns popping out of her head. She asked me to open my mouth and when did, she peered in and after having a good look at the contents inside, she said ‘uh-huh’. ‘What do you mean uh-huh?’ I asked. She said I had more cavities than teeth. I said ‘uh-huh’ and she asked ‘What do you mean uh-huh?’ I said ok, to which she retorted ‘It’s not ok’. I wanted to say uh-huh, but I held back. She said a cave explorer could venture into my mouth for days altogether and still come out leaving unfinished business. And I think, just to prove a point, she prodded my teeth with some instruments which could just have well been a chisel and a hammer, for with every prod she created an intense pain that caused a convulsion so severe that I was rooted to ‘The Chair’ against my wishes of making a dash for the door. Finally when she was done prodding, she laid down the tools and started scribbling the notepad with a prescription for me before I could come to visit her next week. If I were to hazard a guess, she called me next week because she didn’t have the entire set of tools for cave exploring with her and she wanted to be completely prepared the next time around.

The entire ordeal was enough to give me nightmares. Yet, pay her a visit next week, I will. However, I am prepared with counter measures. On the evening prior to my visit, I will down a great deal of whisky. I will drink till my gills are pickled and I am sozzled. The hangover on the morrow should hurt more than what the dentist has in store for me.

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