Awake

When I was a kid, my parents took me to a dentist who hypnotized his patients before he worked on them. At 8 or 9 years of age I had no idea, I just know I was convinced he never gave me a shot of Novocaine. He did, of course, but I didn't "feel it" as I was in la la land for the duration. My mom said that when she came to pick me up, I'd be asleep in his chair my head nodding toward the porcelain spit bowl.

He lost his license, so my mother tells me, for not having the proper license to practice hypnosis. It seems silly now as I felt very comfortable at the dentist and didn't really develop a fear of them until I was an adult.

It's not that I fear them actually -- I never make an appointment, or shake in the chair, or break out in hives -- but as an adult, I've somehow figured out how uncomfortable sitting in that chair with my mouth wide open and smothered in a rubber dam can be. I don't even mind the shots, but I hate and despise the drill. I can't think about what they're doing to my tooth with the whining, buzzing, digging drill.

Since my fear has increased over time, I've tried to stick with one dentist -- a dentist I trusted -- and faithfully go for cleanings to avoid any major procedures.

Unfortunately, it hasn't always worked out that way. I have my father's teeth -- they are soft and prone to decay -- or perhaps I have my mother's teeth as she has worn dentures for most of my life. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that I have a number of crowns, a whole new mouth of fillings (they got rid of all those silver ones), an implant, and a number of root canals.

And all of these procedures have been done by one or two doctors.

Today's procedure was a dentist I'd had once before, when my regular dentist was out of town. Dr. L was a great dentist and though my time was limited with her, I was sad when she left on maternity leave and never came back. I liked her so much I hunted her down on the internet and to my pleasure (though I hate to use that word in the same sentence as dentist), she had just opened up a new practice. I went on my first visit today and to avoid being reexamined, she just gave me the temporary crown my previous dentist (her old employer) was going to give me a week ago.

Dr. L's office is very new. It even smelled new, and is a "certified green building" with bamboo floors and recycled materials used to make the counters and the cabinets. She has a massage therapist as her receptionist, so just when you're finishing up, this tall, thin European woman comes and massages your shoulders or your jaw or your hands or your feet or all of them if you so request.

I really like Dr. L. She's patient and kind and never asks ridiculous questions when your underneath that rubber dam. She's a perfectionist, too, which means her work is admired by other dentists. It also helps that she's very cute. When the drilling gets annoying, I open my eyes and stare at her delicate nose and petite ears.

Dr. L is a very good dentist, but today's procedure tested her perfectionist nature. The drilling went well, but the impression took forever. I stayed fairly relaxed, but when she said, "the tooth is awake" I had a chill move from my molars to my toes clenching my hands along the way.

I didn't really quite know what "awake" meant, but I found out quickly when she stuffed another cord into it (which I'm not really sure why they do that...disinfectant?). I winced. She placed her hand on my shoulder and asked, "Was that unbearable?"

What could I say? I was trapped under rubber, my mouth so wide open I could put my fist in it. I nodded "no," but then doubted my answer the second her pokey tool went for the cord and the tooth.

The tooth is awake...what the hell kind of jargon is that? I didn't know teeth went to sleep. I knew my leg can fall asleep if I curl it under me for too long while sitting. I knew they put me "asleep" when I had my back surgery. But teeth are like inanimate objects, aren't they? Sure, I know they hurt and have roots and all of that, but most of the time, I don't notice them at all. When the pain shot through my gums and along my jaw today I was thinking this isn't awake, this is bloody painful!

Dr. L apologized and kept letting me know that she was almost done. I tried to stare at her smooth and silky complexion. I tried to trace her jawline down to her softly curved chin. I even looked for gray hair amidst the golden blond of her pony tail, but to no avail. Three and half hours into it and I was ready to have her yank the damn tooth out.

Okay, so it wasn't that bad. After 800 mg. of Ibuprofen, I'm feeling much better, but when I stop to think about the whole thing, I get the willies. Still, I'll go back to her. She's kind, she's funny, she's really good at what she does, and she's very attractive.

Maybe I'll just send her a brochure about hypnotism before my next visit.