my date with the dentist

It all began with a fear that my teeth would turn to mush without my daily dose of Fluoride in the water. I've been flossing like a fiend, and tooth-pickin' like they grow on trees. It worried me incessantly for the last 6 months, so when my supervisor asked if I'd like a free teeth cleaning, paid-for by the school, I said, "yes please".

The dental office was nice, it had the standard waiting room, and the individual rooms followed the usual combination of soft coloured and inoffensively patterned wallpaper. I was a little excited: yet another broadening experience into Korean culture.

The hygienist came in and gave me the universal ball-chain necklace and Creight paper bib, and then called for the dentist. Turns out I have 3 cavities and could potentially spend a couple hundred dollars to fill them with gold, but it wouldn't likely make me look any cooler, so I'll have it done at home when I get back.

Before the cleaning began, the hygienist educated me with the proper way to show that I was in any kind of discomfort. I thought that it was unnecessarily thorough, as a wince or grimace would surely indicate any kind of pain, but I just assumed they were being overly cautious about my delicate foreign gums.

She got out a kind of towel with a hole in it, and had me lie back so as to place the thing over my face. She lined the hole up over my mouth and began. I felt like I was being prepped for an execution, and was hoping for a cigarette or at least the chance to give my last words. I was unsure with which device of torture she would begin. She started with with the usual vacuum thing that makes my teeth cold, but nothing I couldn't handle.


Expecting another familiar device, I was then assaulted by what I can only assume was some kind of angle grinder that operated at warp-speed. As it made contact with my molars, it squealed like brick saw whilst rattling my brain stem. The sound would have been something similar to what I might have tried to make but, unfortunately, I was drowning in the pool of water squirted at my teeth to keep them from bursting into flames from the friction.

I think I know why the face cloth was of a towely material, though. If I were to cry it was right there to sop up my tears.

As I quietly tensed and writhed in pain, I could only imagine the carnage wrought in my mouth. Teeth lopped off, gums shredded, etc.

She then said the sweetest words to be heard at that time: "I'll finish with the scraper". Perhaps she could see that I was uncomfortable by the ruts I had trenched into the seat, or maybe it was the parabolic arch my spine had formed by the tensing of every muscle in my body. I forgot about the hand signal.

I happily welcomed the sound of the rough side of that hooked utensil scaling my teeth, compared to the scream of that torturous grinder.

She finished a few minutes later and the rest was wholly uneventful. I thought I'd share my pain to perhaps brighten up your life. I hope you enjoyed it as intensely as the agony I experienced whilst that instrument bored through my jaw bone.


I shan't return to the dentist for at least another 6 months


unless, perhaps, it's free.