The Dentist Will See You Now

By James L. Davis

When I was a baby and my first baby tooth finally protruded from my baby gums it already had a baby cavity.   For this reason I have logged more hours in a dentist chair than the average person and for that reason I have had more than my fair share of time to ponder the joys that can only be experienced when you have several people put their hands in your mouth at the same time and ask you about the weather.

I don’t mind telling you and I’m fairly sure that my dentist won’t be offended when I say that I am not comfortable sitting in a dentist chair.  I never have been and I’m fairly confident that I never will be. 

I say that knowing full well that I have fallen asleep in a dentist chair, which may lead you to believe that I was very comfortable, but if that is what you believe you are mistaken.  I can fall asleep virtually anywhere at any time.  It’s a gift.  Some people have amazing talents.  They can sing or dance or run or compute numbers in their head or have entire conversations without using the word “like.”  I can’t do any of those things, but I can, like, fall asleep at a moment’s notice.  And the more stressed I am, the easier it is for me to sleep.  Which means lately I can sleep virtually 24 hours a day.  In a couple of weeks I figure I’ll be in a coma.

So, despite the fact that I have snored in a dentist chair, I still am not comfortable in a dentist chair and there are numerous reasons why, not the least of which is I do not like pain.  I also do not like to have other people’s hands in my mouth.  I don’t even particularly like having my own hand in my mouth, although I am apparently ok with having my foot in my mouth.  I don’t like the sound the drill makes as it echoes through my skull and I don’t like to see smoke coming out of my mouth.  For that reason I do not keep my eyes open when I sit in the dentist chair.  I clinch them shut, open wide and hope the dentist or his assistant will let me know when it is all over and I can go home. 

But the things that I don’t like pale in comparison to the things I worry about in a dentist chair.  I worry about a wide variety of things while sitting in a dentist chair.  I worry because the dentist and his army of assistants are not only looking into my mouth, they are looking up my nose and I am not fond of people looking up my nose.  It’s not a phobia or anything; I just prefer not to have people looking into my nostrils.  So, I guess it’s fair to say that if you are in the body piercing business you will never have to worry about me asking you to put a piercing through my nose, because I never will.  I also worry that I might sneeze while all of those hands are in my mouth, so I spend a whole lot of time wrinkling my nose to avoid sneezing, which draws attention to my nose and fuels my worry over people looking up my nose.

But the number one thing I worry about the most while sitting in the dentist chair is I worry that I will become engulfed in a fit of laughter and the dentist will drill through my cheek.  This is not because I am on laughing gas, because I haven’t used laughing gas since I was a boy.  I had to stop using laughing gas at the dentist because the dentist had too difficult a time getting any work done on my mouth.  Apparently, under the influence of laughing gas I am prone to sing the hits of Aretha Franklin, which I find odd because when I am not under the influence of laughing gas I cannot think of a single Aretha Franklin song, let alone sing one.

No, the reason I worry about breaking into hysterics is completely and totally the fault of Bill Cosby.  I grew up listening to Bill Cosby and I believe him to be among the greatest comedians that there ever was and ever will be.  The problem is that Bill Cosby has devoted an entire monologue on his experience going to the dentist.  It is one of the funniest things I have ever heard.

The problem with that is from the moment I sit down in the dentist chair to the moment I try and take my first sip of anything upon leaving the dentist chair and have it spill down my shirt I am reminded of Bill Cosby’s monologue and I fight a laughing fit.

So, while my dentist impales my mouth with a needle my eyes well with tears less with pain and more because I am fighting the urge to laugh because I do not want him to break the needle off in my gum. That may make me laugh more.  I try not to laugh when I am engaged in conversation while my mouth is full of somebody else’s hands.  I try not to laugh when my lips are numb and I am drooling across my chin.  I just close my eyes and try not to think about Bill Cosby.

At that point I usually fall asleep and have nightmares of someone looking up my nose. (Published in Family News.com)