Dental Times

Went to the dentist this morning. Lemme tell ya something: There ain't NOTHING in the world better than a dentist who knows how to do his job without causing you enough pain to make the Texas Chainsaw Massacre look like a day out picking daisies.

As a child, dentistry was done with a hammer and chisel with an occasional hacksaw thrown into the mix. It was always done with two people. The dentist, wearing his mask (so little kids wouldn't be frightening into fits of screaming as they gazed into his maniacally grinning, sadistic face), and the dental assistant. The dental assistant was quite often rather decent looking and as I got to be a teenager, at least that much was appreciated.

Her looks were always deceiving though. Her job was to stretch your lip down past your bellybutton so the dentist could have an unimpeded view of your choppers. Not only that but he had to have room for a whole inventory of equipment in order to do his torture, er, work on your mouth.

First was the vacuum. I'm convinced this was for the sole purpose of drowning out the noises of the drill as he gleefully plowed through your teeth, spraying particles all over your chest. That little bib they clipped on you was nowhere NEAR large enough to keep that garbage off your shirt. Someone coulda made a mint selling rubber dental shirts but noooooo. All you got was this little insignificant paper postage stamp clipped to your collar.

So now you have a vacuum cleaner whining in your ear, a drill whining in your other ear, a dentist with hands the size of Montana reaching into the back of your throat and a general all-around cavalcade of crap all over your tonsils. Oh, and the assistant always had one hand dragging your cheek over HER shoulder with one hand at the same time she held your lip down at your waist with her other hand.

One assistant actually stapled my lip to my belly so she could root around in my mouth with yet another vacuum cleaner as the dentist hammered away at my teeth. Add to that the little rubber wheel stop. Same thing they use in the garage behind your car but the only difference is, this one goes in your mouth. They even buy them at the same auto parts store. I know, 'cause I've seen 'em. They wedge that puppy in between your teeth because they know damn well that first chance you get, you're biting fingers off.

Then there's the needle as long as your arm. That was always a good one. Why do they need a needle so long? I'll tell you why: So the dentist is out of your reach when he sticks you with it. If the needle were any shorter, you'd grab his man-berries and wrench 'em off him.

Ah, the memories.

Laughing gas hadn't been invented yet. The dentist would talk to you. The objective, of course, was to divert your attention from the pain in your mouth to the task of trying to talk with all this crap hanging from your jaws. It always came out the same:

Ggggahhhhahhghhghghghehehehehgggheghgggeeee.

That was because your tongue was either clamped to the roof of your mouth or stapled to your chin. That stapler got quite the use in that dental office.

The scariest thing about talking to the dentist with a mouth full of Snap-On tools was that the dentist always understood you. Must have been a class in Dental school on how to understand people who were A) in extreme pain, B) had your arm down their throat and C) hated your guts for doing your job. But understand you they did and they kept a rousing conversation going with you the entire time you were there.

Again, just to distract you from the pain. I'm sure dentists at the conventions would compare notes on who could cause the most pain before a patient cold-cocked 'em. If it was a big muscle-bound guy, the dentist got more points for it.

"Yeah, yesterday I had this kid in my office and I inadvertently drilled a hole in his left nostril. Oops. Clumsy me. I had just asked him if he had a girlfriend, my favorite distraction question for teenage boys, and just as he started to answer me, I nailed him. He never let out a peep! That's whatcha gotta do, use the right question, the right timing, and pretend like you do that kind of thing every day."

"Oh, that's nothing, bro. I had this guy in my chair a couple weeks back, 6'4" and outweighed me by 75 lbs. Good sense of humor. I had my most luscious assistant leaning over his face, dragging cleavage wafting perfume and the whole bit. I was just telling stories and at that moment, I was talking about my trip to Lake Tahoe and the huge Bass I had caught. All of a sudden, I 'slipped' and drove a chisel right through his jaw under the last molar. He winced a little, but didn't even groan. Boobs, man. That's all I have to say. Boobs. Works every time. And the best thing about it was the repair work on his jaw and back molars paid for my new fishing boat. I have it on order right now!"

I can hear the "ooohs" and "aaaahs" over that one.

But that was the good ol' days. It isn't like that any more.

This morning, my dentist whipped out a small digital camera probe and plugged it into a T.V. monitor. He pokes it into my mouth and shows me, tooth by tooth every little thing going on in my mouth. Lotsa neat little white castles lined up in rows.

"Looks like you need to floss a little more in front there." "Started smoking, didn't you? Bad boy." "I see a little rough spot back here we can sand off."

My teeth must be like a diary. I was waiting for him to tell me the last time I had sex but he had enough discretion to leave that one alone.

I complained about a spot in my back molar where food gets stuck all the time. He fixed that, cleaned my teeth, polished up and I was done.

I nearly fell asleep in his chair. And no pain killers or gas through any of it. How many of you can say that about YOUR dentist? Neener neener neener. I know most of you are so terrified at the dentist you're leaving claw marks in the arms of his chair. Sleeping is not even a remote possibility for you, even WITH the gas.

In short, my dentist is no fun, really. But in a dentist, that's the best thing about him. I'll take my boring ol' dentist over my childhood dentists any day.

--Wag--