One thing I like less than most things is sitting in a dentist chair with my mouth wide open
And that I will never have to do it again is a hope that I am against hope hopen
Because some tortures are physical and some are mental
But the one that is both is dental
-Fredrick Ogden Nash
I disagree with Nash. Not because disagreeing with something prevalent is the most important requisite of an academic researcher. Nor that I love being devil’s advocate. I was a contrarian long back; marriage pushed me into amiability. My dissent here stems from the incomplete description of dental pain. A pain anywhere else in the body makes you groan or at least fish for sympathy from anyone willing to dispose sufficient time for hearing out the detailed origination of pain. Dental pain calms you, it makes you introspective. Or at least people think you are introspecting when you are staring at infinity with your palm gently holding up the distressed side of your mouth. It takes you to the corners of your home you never knew existed. One realizes that there never was any need for so many words to convey the feelings across. Queries can be terminated immediately with appropriate nod or shake of head. The epiphany you have that your own company, without any words exchanged, wasn’t that bad either. No sympathy fishing, just point at your jaw if someone asks for your sudden reticence. Pride glazed with a bit of arrogance shines through. Besides, it is one of those rare bodily experiences, which when at its best or worst, gives you that shooting, electric-current pain that reaches straight to the brain. Experiencing it is not believing it.
I had this unforgettable experience few years back. Early morning, the pain on my right upper molar, the last in the row, that had started casually was gradually tightening the screw on my tolerance from last night. I was sinking in the sofa cushion with random thoughts clashing just inches above my inflamed molar. ‘Will it go away on its own or I have to visit a dentist’, ‘root canal or extraction’, ‘multiple sittings or single in-out job’, ‘God somehow make it go away please’ ‘where is my morning tea’. Milk! My only contribution to the morning chores had come undone.
She (from the kitchen) – “Aaj chaai ki awaaz nahi aayi subah subah”. Hint or sarcasm, I couldn’t capture the question mark in the sentence.
Me – Silence. I thought of blabbering through my mouth as much as it could open but nixed it.
She – “Jaldi dudh le aaiye,der ho rahi hai “ .The pitch was a note higher and the tone urgent.
Me – “Daaa bahaa daar kaaar raaa haaa”. The last haaa was purposefully stretched to convey the intensity.
She –Silence. Amongst the noise of various utensils working towards morning breakfast, a steel ladle dropped on its own, unnecessarily harsh on the floor. A random coincidence.
She walked in the hall, understood the gravity of situation quickly and before I could realize, an appointment with Dr.Aniket Joshi was set for the evening. It was finally happening; the wheels were set in motion.
The breakfast and black tea arrived. I tilted my head slightly on the left side and tried to sip the tea through the narrow slit without opening the mouth much. The tea was travelling everywhere except its intended destination. I gave up both. A clove was now positioned there to alleviate the pain, although I quickly realized household remedies work better for lesser, bearable pains.
Sleep was not an option. Besides, lying horizontally aggravated the pain. I tried meditation, pranayam, TV, reading, putting hot water bag on the cheek but to no avail. The pain’s focus was sharp.
Finally, the moment I feared, came. That it would offer some respite from this torture calmed me somewhat. I had heard visiting a dentist is very addictive. You simply can’t stop visiting him again even if you want to. He doesn’t let you. Dentists exact customer loyalty and extract your tooth simultaneously. The clinic was small, waiting room had chairs with couple of occupants. A large poster of a dusky model with shiny pearlies staring at me hung above those chairs. In the current situation, my lighter skin shade than hers offered petty consolation. The receptionist guided me straight to his cabin. Dr.Joshi was a much discussed name by my parents and I was very curious to meet him for the very first time.
As soon as I entered the cabin, his apprentice smiled and gestured me to occupy the dental chair. Dr.Joshi was busy with some data entry of previous patient on his desktop. The apprentice asked elementary questions about my problem, made some notes and walked to him. I observed the chair. It was a huge, extinct, pre-historic creature with multiple arms in whose womb I lay, not knowing my impending fate. I had no more fear. For fear to exist, there has to be hope, however slim it may be, that you have a chance to escape the catastrophe. Looking at it had extinguished the last reminiscence of hope. I felt my body relax. I saw Dr.Joshi approaching with a sprightly gait. Dr.Joshi was a diminutive man, roughly 5’ 4”, an angelic smile, peach white complexion, thinning hair on the pate, no patch but an extended forehead . Nothing appeared demonic about him.
“Hello. Lean back and relax. Tell me the problem in complete detail “
I repeated the commentary given to his apprentice. She stood behind him submissively.
“Open your mouth”.
I opened it.
“Wider”
Stretched it more.
“Wider”
I reached the limit.
“Relax, relax …. wider”
I guessed the overhead light of the creature was blocking his view. He wanted to check the tooth by peeping with his entire head inside my mouth. This game could go on longer; he wasn’t as small as he was thinking himself to be. He used sickle probe and cotton pliers to examine the source of pain.
He discussed the observations with his apprentice in alien language; she faithfully noting them down in her notepad. I was in for a long haul. Damn.
Suddenly the overhead light went off. Dr.Joshi asked me to get up and take my seat at the table. He removed the gloves and mask and sat on his chair. I dreaded the prognosis.
“Congratulations, you are set to become wiser”.
“Sorry Doctor, What exactly?”
“You are getting a new wisdom tooth which is causing the inflammation to your skin. The pain sometimes spreads to your ear, jaw and complete side of the face. Nothing to worry about. I’ll write some OTC pills, Keep an ice pack on the cheek 3-4 times a day for 5 -10 minutes. Keep gargling with warm water to reduce the inflammation. It will be gone in few days. Avoid hard food and have ice cream twice a day”
“Wisdom tooth that late, Doctor”, I was in my thirties then.
“Some cases it happens late but nothing unusual, you shall be fine”
I came out; it felt a bit anticlimactic. No local anesthesia, no procedure, no prolonged treatment.
That what I had dreaded so much came to a naught and I got no piece of action at all. I laughed wildly. “Aaahhh”, it hurt and yet I laughed some more.