Open wide - it won't hurt
The other day, Jane Smith who works for me....and I'm just trying to think of a suitable title that explains Jane's job...let me think?.......ok got it! 'Person who is responsible for keeping the ship afloat'. Anyway Jane has had some dental treatment recently. She had been extremely nervous about it as it involved root canal work. Jane had heard some horror stories of butchers masquerading as dentists. Anyway whilst listening to Jane, a memory of my childhood came flooding back to me.
"Don't worry - I'm just going to count to ten" - yeah yeah!
Do you remember 'THE GAS MASK' at the dentist? 'aaarrgh! It makes me cringe thinking about it. For a child it must be one of the most frightening thing you could go through.
'When I were a lad', if you needed a tooth extracting, you had to be put to sleep. I vividly remember the smell of the mask as the torturer, sorry dentist slipped it over my nose and mouth. I am positive he used to say to me "I'll count to ten and by then you will be asleep" but would then proceed to mess with my mind by counting one, two, three, seven, thirteen, as the incideous odour of gas seeped into the mask. I tried my hardest to stay awake and tell him he was wrong but the big gooey bed in La La land always got the better of me.
The nauseous feeling when coming round was just awful. That with the dribble pouring down my chin and the taste of blood in my mouth. No wonder Janet and Erika had nightmares about it. To top it all, I then remembered the counting to ten business. What the hell! After that my maths were shot. Am I too late to sue?
Actual picture of my dentist - honest!
Am I painting dentistry in a good light?
I remember Janet having to have the gas mask once. She was so nervous for days before hand, she cried and cried and didn't want to go. I think Erika was taking all this in and secretly must have dreaded ever having to go to the dentist.
Mum used to organise that all four of us had dental check ups on one visit. I suppose it was quite an efficient way of seeing us all and saved separate trips for Mum. Well this one occasion Janet, Erika, Harvey, Mum and myself were sitting nervously in the waiting room. The dental surgery in Marple was pretty much brand new when we were kids. It was a single story building and had a large waiting room at the front with various rooms to the rear for the dentists. I remember the waiting room had an old rocking horse, donated by someone or other and we loved it. I think over the years it got rocked to death by kids taking their fears out on it and was eventually removed. I also remember wondering if the dentists had a go after everyone had gone home (bet they did)
The photographer struggled with his tripod for this shot
Anyway where was I? Oh yes! Our dentist had seen Janet and I had just come back after my turn. Erika was then called through by Yvonne on reception (who still works there and is a lovely lady btw). Erika did not want to go, but Mum gently persuaded her it was ok. She got up, opened the waiting room door and headed through. I thought "that was easy" as I practiced being Lester Piggott on the poor rocking horse.
At this point I would like to state that actually our dentist back then was a really nice chap. He was not really a torturer or butcher as I have made dentists out to be (much). His name was Fred Ferris and he retired a few years back. I have a new dentist now who quite frankly, is a complete nutcase. He is a maniac Manchester United fan. Not that that qualifies him to be certified however.
On the side of his bowl where you rinse out your mouth, he has some wipes in a small box. On the side he has written the inscription "Man City season tickets - please take one" which is actually quite amusing considering he must have plenty of blues fans visiting him on a daily basis.
However he has this infuriating habit of asking you really topical and interesting questions when he and his assistant have dental instruments stuck in your mouth. That suction hose thing the assistant holds whilst the dentist grinds a pneumatic road drill slowly into your skull. You know the one's I mean.
He will say something along the lines of "So what do you think of the England manager situation then Brian?" or "How's business at the moment? It must be very difficult in this economic climate" You think about a reply for a second, then realise there is no way you can utter anything apart from a muffled, spit filled grunt. He then goes on to give you his considered view on the matter, whilst you are quietly going out of your mind thinking of a way of responding. I considered sign language once, but even to do that you need some lip movement. Is there an iPhone app for responding to dentists? There should be! It is really frustrating. You end up thinking 'are you doing this on purpose?' Is this some kind of psychological torture? I did wonder if maybe this guy wrote the book 'How to screw with kids minds just by counting 1, 2, 3, 7, 13' (I just checked Amazon and there it is - Author Neil McGrogan) I think Neil is a really nice chap btw and is actually a great dentist. Just don't go see him if you are a chatterbox. You will come out a gibbering wreck.
So you support Liverpool do you?
Anyway back to my memories!
Erika had gone through to see the dentist and had been quite a while, so we all thought she was maybe having a filling that Mr Ferris had found necessary. Just then Mr Ferris came in the waiting room and asked where Erika was? Mum jumped up and said something like "with you...isn't she?" "No she hasn't come through yet" replied the dentist. We all looked at each other. It must have been nearly five minutes since she'd walked through the door. We checked the toilets and the rest of the corridors but there was no sign of Erika anywhere. By now Mum was panicking. Mum didn't have a car and Dad was at work. I remember Mum thinking that she must have run home. We all trouped off as fast as we could. It was about a mile home and as a kid that seems like an eternity. Sure enough, there was Erika sat on the front step. She had managed to evade the demon dentist by running home. She knew she was in trouble. Mum was not best pleased with her to say the least. She was obviously relieved that Erika was ok and just gave her a hug. But from that point on Erika had accompanied visits to the dentists chair for quite some time.
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