July 26, 2012

• The Bloody Inquisition……a trip to the DENTIST!

            

   

      History tells us, that the first dentists were trained in Spain in the 1400’s during the Inquisition. Many of their early instruments are still used today by dentist and slaughter house technicians. The dentist is an absolute part of our livies, much like birth and death and all the abundant pain associated with both those events. I even hate the Novocain shots, but, I have developed a very nice relationship with the Nitrous Oxide gas.

      OK….here’s a true story with a few minor flourishes to keep it from being boring. Being a good grand dad, (his Mom chickened out), I took my 10 year old grand son to the dentist for his first time. It was not a good day for “Weezer”. The nickname Weezer comes from a character in the old “Our Gang” series from the 1930’s. So, I picked Weezer up at school and as we walked down the hall to the exit door, he reminded me of a condemned convict taking his last walk to the electric chair. I knew he had to have a few fillings, as this was his first visit. As we pulled into the parking lot of the dental clinic, I asked him if he had any last wishes…..my humor was not taken well. Inside the dentist office, I signed him in and we took a seat.

      The waiting room was packed! This particular dentist took KIDCARE and state funded patients. Considering the economy and hard times, a lot of parents are out of work and depend on these services for their kids. This meant the dentist was very busy and most times everybody had to wait a long time. I picked up a copy of Parenting Today, that was about 8 months old and looked at the main story line….“Reasoning With Ritalin, Not Discipline.”  I shook my head and put it back down and looked for a Home And Garden issue. I looked down at Weezer and he looked pale and had a zombie stare…..the condemned was waiting for them to hook up the chair. Every time the door opened to the treatment rooms, his little heart stopped. They would be coming soon. First the priest and then the hooded dentist in his bloody white coat. 

      Giving up on the magazines, I sat and studied the waiting room and noticed something about the Moms there. Most were very large. I’m not blind to the real world and know most women are size 14 to 18, (wifey says so). My wife is a “petite large” and more beautiful now than during my vision healthy days when I first met her. Anyway….at that moment, another Mom walked into the waiting room dragging her dumpling size daughter. She waddled up to the peek-a-boo window to sign in and here’s where I need to be delicate as to describing her. Her butt looked like two large hams stuffed into a polyester laundry bag. I was ashame of myself because I was gawking at her, but it was like watching a semi truck full of pumpkins crash into a brick wall….you just can’t take your eyes away from the phenomenon. Most of the Moms there were well established fast food connoisseurs and I’m sure they all knew the exact times when Dunkin Donuts put out the fresh goods. Most of these women also had very round children with angry hair. I looked down at Weezer and could see he was totally lost in thought and about to start drooling.

      An hour had passed when the door to the death chamber opened and out walked a cheerful girl, dressed in a loose fitting uniform printed with dancing teeth and flying smiles. She looked around the room of heifers and then called Weezer’s real name. For a moment, he stared at her and then looked up at me to verify if she was talking about him. We got up and as much as I wanted to hold his hand, I knew it wasn’t cool, so I just put my hand on his shoulder and we slowly walked towards the door. Weezer was sure that witnesses had been gathered behind some curtained glass window to watch the sad event.

      We walked down a short hallway, (death-roll), and were soon directed into a small room. The lady with the dancing teeth helped him into the CHAIR and then put a BLOOD bib around his neck. He sat rigid as she set him up for x-rays and then she asked me to step outside for a moment. Then she threw the SWITCH! Weezer took a deep breath and it was done. He did well. She pulled all the x-ray junk out of his mouth, praised him for doing so good and then she left. I came back in and walked over to a chair in the corner and sat down. I said, “You know there’s still more to come, don’t you?” He just closed his eyes.

      The dentist finally came in and I shook his hand as did Weezer. “OK, let’s see what we got.” He looked at the x-rays for a moment and then put his doctor mask and gloves on.  Then he bent over the boy and said “Open wide, a little wider, a little wider….very good.” After picking around for a moment he turned and said to me, “Three minor surface cavities. We’ll do them all now.” Whatever religious elements my grandson had, seem to vaporize at that moment. The doc then said, “Just two small injections and then we’ll get started.” He then took a Q-tip looking thing and applied something to numb the boy’s gum, and then said, “I’ll be back in a few…you OK?”  Weezer’s head bobbed around in several directions indicating several answers to the question. He knew the dentist would return soon, and with a black hood over his head.

      The dental tech came in after a few minutes with the syringes and soon the doctor was back to do the deed. As the event unfolded, I noticed all of Weezer’s fingers were spread out and starting to twist in different directions and his legs were stuck straight out. Then it was done. The dentist then stepped out again and after a few minutes, I got up and walked over to the boy. “You OK, Weezer?” He looked up at me and said with rubber lips, “Wagna fa nal.” I smiled and nodded then went and sat down again. Moments later, the doc was back. Leaning over, he engaged the DRILL and directed the apparatus towards my grandson’s mouth. I could clearly see the young boy’s life flashing before his eyes. 15 minutes later, it was done. All done! When the doc finished the last filling he said, “You did great and I’ll see you in six months.” I thought the boy would kiss the doctor’s hand if allowed. He was out of the chair taking the bib off himself and leading the way to the waiting room. I caught up with him and once we were in the car, I said I was proud of him and he deserved something special, and to just name it. He said, “Dokan Dulnats”…..Ya gotta love em!

   

   

   

   

  • 9:12 pm
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