Dentist Disaster

The story is a funny take on our experiences and encounters at the dentist.

7.00 p.m. It was raining outside. The weather so pleasant and inviting I wanted to be outside, getting drenched and making splashes. I think, now, it wasn’t only the rain which made me want to be outside, but it was the fact that I hated the place where I was in, to the core. The dentist’s reception hall.
As I waited for the assistant to call me in, I was fighting hard the urge to cancel my appointment and get out of there right then. But I had to do it. It was either then or never. The drilling sound in the background didn’t help me either. It was like the tool in the dentist’s hand was enjoying every moment of breaking the opponent to pieces, literally. The sound of the drill would be interspersed with oooohs and ssiiisssss of the patient. It wasn’t a good feeling to know the next to produce such sounds would be me. Ouch…And it also made me wonder how long I could tolerate such torture. A minute or two at a stretch. Definitely not more than that. While the driller was working its way through a mouth, I was mentally admiring the patient’s patience. Talk about empathy for fellow human beings.
7.25 p.m. I had had enough. I couldn’t bear it. Anticipating pain is agonizing. To prevent the sick feeling from rising any further I got up. As I was pushing the exit door open, the door to hell opened. As the assistant looked I heeheed at her and muttered I was just seeing if it was raining. She had not asked. Compelled to react to my stupid and unasked for statement she said, “Anyways, its going to be another one hour before you go.” It was my turn.
As I stepped in I thought the dentist was too beautiful and girly for her profession. All the images of a villainish man with handle bar moustache and a mole using his deadly tools to excavate a mouth, were shattered. She talked. Brushing technique, tartar formation, weak gums and blah and blah and more blah. I was only concentrating on her mouth, rather teeth. Didn’t I have the right to scrutinize my dentist’s teeth before I offered mine to her?
As I sat on the chair, the assistant adjusted the lever and as I went down, I said goodbye to the last chance to run. All was over. But my dentist didn’t think so. It was time for her to begin. She asked me to open my mouth. I did. She said it wasn’t wide enough. “Please open your mouth fully.” Was I supposed to tear open my mouth. This was the best my mouth could stretch. Gaaaaawww…
“Concentrate on the music.” To say I love music would be an understatement. But to enjoy it or even trying to listen to it is difficult with hazardous equipments, something blowing air at intervals and a suction pipe, in your mouth. Plus painful jaws refusing to stretch further.
After all of these, the news that I would not require a root canal for my tooth, was the best that I had heard recently. To quote her, “Just a filling, scaling and a cap on the other tooth. It shouldn’t be left open.” Just?
I returned home with a not so heavy heart, even smiling (no root canal, remember?) and also an early morning appointment for the next day.