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:: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 ::

A Date with the Denitst

Getting cleaning done for my teeth was long overdue. Just thinking of dentists and their tools gives me shudders. I kept postponing it as much as I can. But fearing the goodwill of my teeth, I had to give up the resistance and finally decided to face it.

I chose a dentist, a senior doctor based on my friend's reommendations. But lady luck was not by my side - doctor was not in the clinic when I went there. The only person in there was a young girl, probably fresh out of college sitting in the reception and chatting over phone. I presumed she would be manning the front desk but was not exactly confident when I realized she is the one who is going to have a go on my teeth! I tried to put my doubts and worries away unsuccessfully, but nevertheless decided to go ahead and get the cleaning done.

There were two dentist's chairs in the clinic, each facing the other without any partitions. I wondered if the arrangement is meant for two patients to look at each other and feel a little better after seeing the pain in other person's face!

After she made me sit on one of those chairs, her preparations took nearly fifteen minutes. And each of those minutes, I was not sure if it was wise to be sitting there or I would be better off running away! She would pick a few instruments that looked like axe or knife and seemed to be ready to plunge them in my mouth, and the next second she would walk away as if she forgot something and return with something more. Each time she did that I silently suffered, imagining the agonies that are going to come to me in near future.

Finally the ordeal begun - she did not start with the note that I would love to hear - she said "if you are feeling any pain, raise your left hand. ok?" and I meekly said ok. My hands, folded till then involunteerly freed themselves and the left hand reached a 'ready-to-raise' position! Her sharp and fearsome tools entered my mouth and started torturing my teeth and gums mercilessly. I suffered in silence working hard to convine myself that it is all for the good of my teeth. She kept repeating once in a while - 'Are you OK?' and I would nod silently. Do you think I would be ok when I have weapons of mass destruction operating in my mouth? Obviously not. Each time she withdrew her tools, I would realize that I havent breathed in a while and my body is getting stiffer! "Breath", I would say to myself and try to inhale some air before her tools returned to work.

The ordeal lasted for 30 minutes and to the doc's credit she did a decent job without inflicting too much harm. She improved my mood slightly later by mentioning that my overall oral hygene is good! I would have been mighty pleased if she had said that at a time when my oral system was not in pain, but in any case it was a good way to end the whole thing. And more important - thank god I can stay away from the dentists now for some more time!

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