At The Root Of Dental Dismay
I spent an afternoon in my dentist's office last week. My dentist is
a nice man, and I feel he is sincere when he says, "Gee, I'm sorry," after
he goes for one of my bicuspids with his drill and misses and nearly takes
off one of my ears.
"Never did have very good aim," he further apologizes as I make my way
back to the chair from the ceiling.
I don't have anything personal against dentists, unlike noted author
Robert L. Steed, who once asked, "Why are dentists free men?"
Dentists mean well, I am certain, and without them many of us would
be down to nothing more than our gums by now.
It's just that the dental profession, were it to stop and think for
a moment, could do a great deal to ease the discomfort and fear many of
their patients feel.
Let's start at the very beginning. I go to my dentist's office, and
while in the waiting room, if I can stop trembling long enough, I attempt
to read one of the magazines my dentist provides his patients. Take `pliers,'
for example
Last week I picked up a copy of Sports Illustrated. It was an issue
from 1979. This caused me to think: If this guy is too cheap to pop for
any new magazines in his waiting room, he's probably not going to waste
any money on modern dental equipment either.
Let's say he is going to extract one of my wisdom teeth on this particular
visit. I expect one of two things:
Either he's going to tie one end of a string around my tooth and the
other around the doorknob of his office door and wait for his insurance
salesman to walk in. Or, he's going to put one hand in my mouth and reach
the other toward his assistant and say the dreaded word, "Pliers."
Speaking of dreaded words, people wouldn't be nearly as afraid of the
dentists if dentists would change the names of some of the terms they use.
Let's take the word drill, for instance. That'd not a happy word. That's
a scary word. It should be used in the context of oil wells and military
exercises and not in relation to my mouth.
Pulp is another dental term I don't like, as in "Sorry, but I just drilled
all the way down into your pulp." Rooting out state secrets
Pulp is where your teeth keep all their nerves and other innards. When
I h ear the word pulp it reminds me of a movie I saw once where Sir Lawrence
Olivier played a former Nazi dentist, and he drilled into the pulp of Dustin
Hoffman on purpose in order to get him to talk.
The very thought of that makes me want to give away military secrets
right and left even if I have to make them up.
The worst dental phrase of them all is root canal. Who thought of such
a horrid, frightening term? Probably a Nazi. But dentists, including my
own, still use it.
"Looks like you're going to need a root canal here," my dentist said
last week.
"The attack is coming in early June on the Normandy coast," I replied.
"I beg your pardon?" said my dentist.
You can't blame me for trying. |