Just Relax While I Stick A Sharp
Object in Your Mouth

By Bill Zahren
(Posted on 11/26/03)

Why is it that dentists and their assistants always say, "Take good care of your teeth. Brush upwards of 12 times a day, floss until your gums bleed, don't chew on metal" -- and then they stick a little steel, very sharp hook in your mouth and start poking around in there?

Hold the phone. That baby looks really, really sharp, Doc. The whole time all I can think of (especially on Halloween) is that this is some kind of Stephen King-esque game of molar bingo. I'm just waiting for that pointed hook to sink into a cavity causing me to jump, cat-like, to the ceiling and cling there, screaming.

Don't get me wrong. I love my dentist, Dr. Quick. I've never experienced pain from The Hook and have no rational reason to fear that I ever will, but my brain insists on reminding me how bad having The Hook driven into a cavity would be. Chalk it up to Satan's Hollywood constantly using amateur dentistry as a torture device. When last I visited Dr. Quick and his tooth posse on Halloween Eve, my dental assistant, the strong-fingered Candace, observed that I didn't look en fuego to be there.

I expect she gets lots of that, what with a dental appointment being compared unfavorably with a prostate exam. Since I'm all about maintenance, I go every six months on the theory that fixing a little cavity is better than waiting until that sucker is a huge, corroding sippy hole of pain.

Once Candace gets in there and starts cleaning up with The Hook, she sometimes gets to asking me questions. I'm sure it's amazing how people suddenly see your point of view if you're talking to them while poking around their mouths with a sharp hook. I was waiting for her to ask me "is it safe?" (Name that movie!)

Candace told me to floss. She always tells me to floss. I never used to, but as an experiment I flossed every weekday for six months. The secret is getting comfortable with sticking your fingers in your own mouth. Once you have the hand positions down, flossing isn't so bad. But the first few times you feel like you're participating in some kind of oral fetish rite or something.

As a special bonus, I have two extra molars on the bottom -- wisdom teeth that came in long ago and now sit back there smugly. They're so far back I almost need a stool to reach back there with the floss. Dr. Quick says there's no reason to pull (sorry, extract) my wisdom teeth since they are sound as a pound and there is plenty of room for them. So I party on with my 34 (rather than 32) adult teeth. The wisdom teeth give Candace another talking point while she's digging around.

Now if The Hook doesn't get you edgy, there's always The Drill. Or the "hand piece" as the dental pros call it. My main complaint with The Drill is The Sound. Rather than execute mass murderers, we should lock them up and make them listen to the blast of a dental drill about 94 times a day. Want to be an instant bazillionaire? Invent a silent dental drill.

Fortunately, the sound of the drill is about the most painful thing in a modern dental office these days, thanks to our Big Dental Friends, Ernest Fourneau, Alfred Einhorn, Heinrich Braun and Guido Fisher.

Einhorn, a German, invented Novocaine. (Pause here to savor the irony that many of Hollywood's dental torturers are, in fact, German characters.) Of course Einhorn is dead now, but still, a nice bouquet for his grave is in order. Way back in the 19th Century, doctors and dentists used to load you up with cocaine as a painkiller.

Problem was, people started having LOTS of cavities at regular intervals and dentists kept getting calls like, "Can I get in today, man? Come on, man, I'm hurting. Just squeeze me in around 2:30, Doc. I need something, man, I neeeeeed something."

To find something that worked but didn't create dental junkies, Fourneau first came up with stovaine in 1904. Then Einhorn rolled a dental yahtzee by creating procaine, which he gave the trade name Novocaine, from the Latin Novus (New) plus cocaine. Soon after he was translating "ka-ching" into German. Braun introduced the use of Novocaine in 1905 and Guido Fisher brought it to the U.S.

By the way, I once worked with a woman who went to a dentist who gave his patients NO PAIN KILLER AT ALL. I wish I was making it up. It's amazing there are enough masochist out there to keep the guy in practice.

I asked my coworker if the guy's dental chair had 3-inch-wide straps on it to hold her down. I also asked her if his dental degree was in German and if the words "Third Reich" appeared on it anywhere.

When I was a kid, my dentist gave me nitrous oxide (laughing gas). Took forever, got me high as a kite and I still felt The Drill, plus it took me about half an hour after we were done to regain the use of my legs. Today I say "Screw the gas, and load me up with Novocaine there, Doc, because it is goooooooood. Are you sure that shot was big enough? Takes about a quarter cup of that stuff to dull my incredibly alert senses. I don't feel it working at all blkhenoianve shven bheviefreve!!" And then my jaw, tongue and lips fall into my lap.

After that, the dentist could perform reconstructive oral surgery while wearing hockey gloves and I'd giggle right through it. I haven't had a cavity in forever, but I did get a jumbo shot of Novocaine when I got a crown in March. After a big syringe full I was all like, "Hook, drill, router, circular saw -- striking."

Dr. Einhorn, I want to party with you, deutsch Kuhhirt (German cowhand). Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta floss. Where'd I put that stool?

©2003 Bill Zahren

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