Tooth hurty

I'm sure that I'm not the only person who has avoided a dentist visit for longer than I should. In fact, given "they" recommend a 6 monthly visit then I've travelling in excess of a factor of 10 beyond that time for a few years. If ignorance really is bliss, then I've been in a blissful place for quite a while...from a dental point of view, at least.

But all that changed once I got married last month, not because my beautiful wife is a dentist but because she suggested a few times (I won't call it nagging) that I go, even giving me the card for her dentist to call, which I took and put in my bag to do something about...sometime. It was too easy not to do anything, except I knew myself that it was in my own interest to go, so I asked my work colleagues for suggestions and dammit if they didn't tell me about a clinic about 5-10min walk away. Dammit. So I called and booked in, knowing this would likely start the flow of a river of cash from my pocket into the dentist's...

The day came around for the appointment and after only a very short wait, barely long enough to even select between a magazine 2 years old or 3 years old, I was led into a windowless room with the dreaded chair facing me; comfy if you're looking for a nap, but not if you're there for a dentist appointment. Alvin was my dentist and he spoke in a quiet voice, greeting me and saying everything will be fine, sounding just like the captain of the Titanic, I'm sure!!

I stressed that I was just here for a check-up and not interested in anything cosmetic, because heaven knows how hard it would be to improve much of my appearance. With that I slid into the chair with a napkin tied around my neck and some un-fashionable glasses on my eyes as the chair raised and reclined to a point where it would have been quite awkward to get out.

Alvin set to work doing an inspection with a little mirror and "prodder", giving a running report to his assistant about the state of play in my mouth, using code words that I couldn't distinguish whether it was a good story or not...I assumed the latter. After a few minutes he took some x-rays, thought for a minute and then told me the news. While not quite a disaster there were some fillings needed - not too bad - and a tooth to be pulled out - that was bad. Not any tooth, but a wisdom tooth, about which I've only heard horror stories of extraction from other people. Oh. My. God.

While I digested this he did a clean and polish of my teeth and sent me off to come back 1 week later for the first part of the repair - a filling and the dreaded tooth removal. "Book an hour" he said, so not just painful but stretched over a hour, too. Paying the bill was barely a tickle compared to what was ahead next time.

The intervening week was filled with nerves and anxiety which made the dread of donating blood seem trivial. I had visions of my head being shaken about as the dentist struggled with a pair of pliers in my mouth getting the tooth out, not to mention the needle to numb the area in the first place...would it work?? Ms A reassured me that they would give me "happy gas" so I would be oblivious to it all, but nothing could dress up the horror I was expecting. I even wanted to take some hospital strength pain killers I was given after my Achilles operation until Ms A talked me out of it.

I would just have to grin and bear it, as much as you can with a mouthful of dentals tools.

The appointment time arrived and this time I didn't even have time to pick up a magazine before the dental nurse came and led me to the chamber, I mean, consulting room. Alvin was barely audible above my beating heart as I relayed my nervousness and asked for any painkiller they could offer, which to my horror said did not include any gas. Oh no...

With great efficiency I again sat down and Alvin got to work, sticking his stainless steel needle into my mouth at least 5 times - it seemed like one of the injections came out the back of my neck. But soon I was numb, with a tennis ball sized cheek, or one that felt that big.

The filling was first, with a lot of grinding and other things, plus a suction vacuum that did as much to dry my mouth out than remove any gunk. All the while I was clenching my hand around the waist of my pants, quite possibly digging a hole in them, also. The only blessing was being able to use my iPod, which I turned up to max volume with some rocking tunes...the selection which both Alvin and the nurse approved of!!!

Next was the tooth removal. Alvin said he'd start by loosening it, and stuck what looked like a screw driver in my mouth to do the job. Then it was the dreaded pliers, looking exactly like in my nightmares, that he stuck in. My whole body was tense, eyes scrunched shut and beads of sweat emerging as he grabbed hold of the tooth...and then it was over!!! It came out with little resistance (thank god!!), and Alvin rested it on the tray and replaced it with some awful feeling gauze to stem the blood.

Phew. That wasn't too bad!!! My relief was measurable - I felt like I dodged a bullet. I left with a second wad of gauze with the whole job done in about 40 mins, and almost happily paid the bill...it hurt more than the tooth thing. There's still another appointment to do the final two fillings, but I think I can handle that now.

The numbness wore off after a while, but even then the pain wasn't too bad. A couple of Panadol that night and I slept like a baby. Ms A was proud of my stoic nature, despite my pathetic anxiety in the lead-up. After all, I only went because of her persistence.

Later that evening as we were having a cup of tea she looked up from reading something and said, "You should get your prostate checked...". Geezus, gimme a break...