No wonder my teeth are shitSubmitted by w_t_a_y_s_t_r_m at 2009-08-05 09:16:37 EDT
Rating: 1.55 on 43 ratings (43 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
Contrary to international belief, here in Britain we do have dentists. Some of them are quite good, actually, and occasionally one of millions of citizens will go along to see them. It's not that we generally dislike our teeth, it's more than when you live in a country filled with smokers and alcoholics during a recession, certain things have to take priority. And unfortunately, as any dentist will tell you, cigarettes and alcohol typically win. Most of the time they will absolutely destroy a tooth into a bitter submission, tie it up in a corner, dance with its wife, fuck its mum and then punch out his best mate. How do they manage to do all this in one room? Because it's the tooth’s wedding day, that's how much smoking and drinking hate teeth.
Recently I made my second visit to my new dentist. The first time I'd gone I remembered him being a nice enough guy who was pretty much all business:
"Sit there, please."
"All seems fine."
"I would suggest you start flossing."
"Are you sure?"
"It's on the NHS, so are you sure you're sure?"
I paid the bill and left, booking my next appointment for yesterday. I got into the reception, sat patiently and was finally called up to the see the dentist.
I was a bit surprised to find not the nice gentleman who I'd let fondle my mouth previously, but instead a new dentist. And I don't mean new to the practice, but more new to society. I'm sure this guy was just recently released from some institute somewhere.
"Nathan?" It all started normally, bit of false hope there.
"Yeah, hi." I reached out to hand him the form the receptionist had given me to pass him.
Instead of taking the form from me he shook my hand, crumpling the paper up. He then took his hand away, the bunched up form in his palm, almost like I'd just tipped a valet with my dental history. He threw himself back into his tall chair and spun back to the desk and flattened the paper out, putting his face close down to the desk to the point where his nose almost touched the sheet.
"Any change in your medical history?" He asked. Pretty standard, acceptable question.
"No, nothing." I said proudly. When you have a lifestyle such as mine you take the little victories.
"Yep." I confirmed, positively beaming.
"No HIV or heart conditions?"
Wait, what? Did he think I'd had an AIDS induced heart attack within the last six months and had let it slip my mind?
"No, nothing." First warning signs going off.
"Okay, take a seat."
Most people will be familiar with the dentist chair, which is long, plastic and eventually tips back to a comfortable angle so you can let someone go to work. I sat on it and it instantly dipped a bit. And I don't mean like suspension taking the brunt, but more just a violent thud down about six inches.
Was this a children's seat? I'm no light-weight, but I'm fairly sure I've seen much fatter people than me come into this dentist. But then I'd never seen them come out again...it was like Sweeny Todd was working for the National Health Service. The nurse put the plastic bib around my neck, somehow managing to stick the velcro tabs to my hair instead of each other.
The dentist spun back towards me and lowered the chair. It tipped back further and further and further until the point where silent panic sets in. Eventually I was very slowly sliding backwards, out of the chair, headfirst towards the floor. It was a bit like Max Payne on a boring day.
"Oh, sorry about that." He wedged his knee under the head rest of the chair and propped it up to a slightly more reasonable height. "We need to get this fixed."
Fucking right you do.
The process began normally enough with him taking a look into my mouth, followed by the usual hums and hars.
"Are you flossing?"
I shook my head.
I quickly planned it in my head. If this guy went psycho, the best course of action would be to bite down hard on his fingers. He would pull his knee out from under me, allowing me to roll backwards off the chair. On the rotation I would kick the light above my mouth into the face of the nurse with one foot and use the other to kick the drill thing into my hand to fend off the lunatic.
Instead he ended up sounding like my mother. He let out a deeply pained sigh and shook his head sadly. I almost expected him to say "I'm not angry, just disappointed". Instead he leaned back in his chair and sighed again.
"You really should floss." He was pained. If he didn't still have the tips of one of his fingers in my mouth I would have said sorry. Then I thought, "Fuck him, I'm old enough to not have to apologise and I'm paying his wage.". Then I felt bad for thinking that so nearly apologised again.
He went on to tell me about a problem with a wisdom tooth or some shit about that which caused something to go wrong somewhere, I don't know I wasn't really listening. Then he told me that he would have to take an x-ray. The nurse passed him some plastic rod that I had to grip between my teeth and then they lined up some ray gun looking x-ray shit next to my face.
"Put your weight forward." He told me. "I'm going to move my knee away and I don't want the chair to tip."
Put my weight forward? I was fucking horizontal. Did he want me to suddenly gain 12 stone in my ankles to try and balance myself out?
"We normally use a bit of wood for this." I told me, playing with some dials. "But that broke."
Ignoring the obvious panic in my face the nurse left the room.
"Ready?" The dentist asked. I had some piece of crap stuck in my mouth, a blast of radiation coming directly into my face and could possibly be thrown out the window like Buster Keaton at any minute, no I fucking wasn't ready. I tried to shake my head, but he ignored that sign too, and then he made a dash out of the office, ripping his knee out from behind my head.
I pushed down with my feet, gripped the only armrest and began praying. It was a waste of time. As soon as he moved the chair jolted backwards too much, I lost my grip, flailed my feet around in a panic and completely lost my shit (not literally, but it was close).
I finally lost my cool and released my clench on the plastic thing in my mouth to scream "Fuck!"
Like a superhero the dentist returned just in time to catch the chair and lift it back up to a more suitable position, and then used the hydraulics to return it to a sitting position. When I say superhero, it's more like the kind of superhero who robs a bank and then hands himself in. What the hell was the asshole thinking?
"Maybe we'll just the x-ray from an upright position?" He said.
"Yeah." I nearly punched him in the forehead. Why the hell didn't we do that the first time?
So he took the x-ray, told me I had to return for another appointment in a week to fill in the crack and to book it downstairs, etc.
In the small reception I told the receptionist and got the appointment made. Sat on the row of chairs next to the desk was a massive woman who was looking at me with a really disgusting look in her eyes.
As I turned to leave I heard her mutter under her breath "Foul mouthed little shit". The hypocrisy aside, I really hope that fat bitch had the same chair as me. If so she'll probably still be planted head first in the floor when I get there next week.