Been there, Done that, Hated it !!!

Hi guys!!! I am back after a wonderful weekend and a great Monday. My friends came home and we had a roller coaster ride into our school days. We visited school, met all our teachers, juniors and most importantly our old class rooms. Awestruck by the new look it had now, we stood there stunned by the presence of a large LCD screen and a computer installed in each class. They had been put up to give the students a “Seeing is Believing” effect. But we were happy such things were not there when we were in school. Guess why??? If we had to view those slide shows and audio clips, our teacher had to take us to the Audio Visual room, which was just across the playground and 2 buildings away. A walk which will take less than 5 mins, would take a solid 15 minutes or even more for us. A very common tactic employed to “eat away” valuable class time!!!

So, I passed off my Monday with friends and teachers. Later, towards the evening, as I was watching a match with my dad, he suddenly popped up with a strange plan. Puzzled by such a thought, immediately I protested. My dad and mom, both have been through the experience, both have not enjoyed it. In fact, none of us would enjoy it. Now, they were pushing me to this. Why do they want me to go thru this too??? I have been a good girl, though I brush my teeth only once in a day, I don’t think they are bad enough to be certified by a dentist!!! Yes, my dad wants me to get my teeth cleaned and braces set up!!! My teeth are neither so expertly aligned, nor are they in total disarray. I am happy the way they are. Then why put me thru this crisis???

My previous visit to the dentist, about a year back, was a very unpleasant encounter. My dad had developed a very bad cavity and had to get a root canal therapy done. This is supposed to be the most dreadful treatment that you can give yourself that you would better wish you had no teeth at all!!! My father had been through the whole treatment and I accompanied him to the last sitting, where he had to fix a crown on worked-up tooth. We were waiting in the lounge, observing patients walk in and out, holding on to their cheeks. As usual, being a health conscious father, my dad began his advice. Being to the dentist for the first time in my life, a 1 hour wait was enough to give me a panoramic idea of what to expect. Finally, when we were ushered into the room, I walked in behind my father.

My dad and the dentist exchanged pleasantries and my father settled in the dentist’s chair. As if I had landed in an alien land, I looked around the place curiously. I watched as the dentist fixed up the crown for my dad. I was waiting to get off the place and finally when it got over, or at least I thought it was over, my dad turned to me and casually said, “Get your teeth checked Preethi. Let’s see if it needs a cleaning.” I was left speechless. I stood there rigid, not knowing how to react. My heart pounding. Utterly terrified. A tempest raging in my mind. Given a chance, I would have barked at my dad, unfortunately, I stood there, tongue tied. I stared at him with desperate eyes and a how-can-you-do-this-to-me kinda look. Finally, when my gaze shifted to the dentist, I saw that he was already getting ready to attack me and with a “warm” smile gestured that I take the seat. I returned his smile with a nervous smirk and took my seat, with a feeling I was going to be crucified in a workshop.

The seat was set high and inclined as if it were an easy-chair. The dentist adjusted the chair’s height hoping he was making me feel comfortable. He tried to develop a conversation with me. But I sat there, uneasy, holding the hand-rest tightly, as if it were my only saviour and answered in monosyllables. And then, it all began; my visit to hell couldn’t have been any closer. He placed a “saliva sucker” on my tongue (guess that’s what its called), focused the light right onto my mouth and took out a metal rod kinda thing. My mouth wide open, eyes set on the pale dusty ceiling, jaws slowly beginning to ache, a suction effect on my tongue and someone staring right into the intricacies of my teeth – Nothing could have been a more undignified posture. The doc came up close, gently placed a metal tool on my teeth, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

I am such a sensitive character, that even when someone scratches a painted wall with their sharp nails, I can feel that tinge of “something” pass thru the corner of my teeth. I got the same effect when he scratched my teeth with the drilling gun trying to remove some tartar. Occasionally, I raised my hand requesting the doc to let me close my mouth for a minute and gasped for breath. My palms were beginning to sweat and I was losing grip of my only support. I wished the whole world would simply melt around me. Finally, he asked me to gorgle and said it was over. I heaved a sigh of relief and quickly got out of the chair hoping that my dad wouldn’t come up with anything more. I thanked the doc for the “wonderful evening” and we turned to leave. As if all this were not enough, the doctor professionally exclaimed, “Come back after 6 months!!!”