Assurances

I think I speak for most people when I say that when in a vulnerable position where I am at the mercy of an alleged expert such as a dentist, doctor, or some other specialist, I like to feel assured of their competence and professionalism. It is nice to be able to relax, kick back, and know you are in good hands. There is just something very valuable in being able to be sure.

A recent trip to the dentist however had me nervous. It began in the waiting room where I was welcomed by a mumbling receptionist and a television featuring the Tyra Banks Show. I took my seat and a random six year old and I waited while watching Tyra who told us about the negative effects of “Bromances.” It was 11am and Tyra had said the words “sexual relations”, and “booty” approximately 8 times. The six year old and I sat transfixed until I was approached by a young hygienist who looked like Jackie from “that 70’s show”, she said, “kay so it’s your turn...wait...ya it is” and batted her heavily make-upped eyelids at me.

I followed her to the chair where she seemed to struggle reading the questions listed on her papers. “Are you e-x-per-i-encing....I mean are you taking any medi-ca-tions?”

“No.”

“kay...ummm. Have you any al-er-gies?”

“Just penicillin.”

“Can you spell that please?”

And so I spent the next few moments spelling out the common allergy to the hygienist whose brow was furrowed.

Above the chair there was a small television and Rachelle Ray was on, presumably because Tyra had just finished trying to be the next Oprah.
“Oh do you ever watch this lady?” she asked with a clear note of excitement in her voice while nodding at the cook.
“Umm yeah, sometimes.”
“Oh I watch it all the time here, it’s on everyday and this lady is crazy! She puts like four sticks of butter in everything. She’s gonna get so fat”.

I laughed politely while she proceeded to take x-rays and jammed impossibly huge metal tongs into my mouth and I wondered if the familiar sound of an msn instant message was coming from the computer behind me. Sure enough it was and while I don’t like to admit to being nosey, I couldn’t help reading the exchange.

Leo: how has your day been?
Lil_ang3l_285: pshhht
Leo: ha, what does pshht even mean?

She had abandoned the online conversation at this point and now told me that even though it looked like my mouth was big enough to fit these metal things, it wasn’t.
“Wait...I didn’t mean to just tell you that you have a big mouth!”
“Zzats s’ok” I said with tears in my eyes.
“Phew haha, that would have been so bad!” she laughed.

It was odd to have to laugh to assure her that I didn’t take her words to heart, odd because I had hoped she was going to take the tongs out of my mouth quickly rather than take her time and stare at me for reassurance. I don’t blame her though, as I likely looked pained at her remark.

“Those x-ray things really hurt, you’d think someone would have invented like a gel one or something by now, make them more comfortable” I said to fill the silence.

“Yeah, in school they made us do a project where we had to re-design dental tools. I got stuck with these x-ray things...and I didn’t really know how to make them better...I tried making them out of like Styrofoam that could be replaced each time but it costs too much money. Ugh they always made us do stuff like that there...you know how school is.”

Needless to say, the more I tried to make small talk with this hygienist the more I wished I hadn’t.

She asked if I had experienced anything odd in terms of pain recently and I said that I was concerned about a slight throbbing in my lower jaw.

“Could you describe the pain?” the hygienist asked.

“Sure, well I wouldn’t say its pain so much as discomfort. And it is just in this spot right here.”

“On a scale of one to ten, one being not painful and ten being super bad how would you rate it?”

“Probably a three.”

“Just a three?” she squinted, sceptically.

“Maybe a four at most, as I said, it’s just a bit of a nuisance.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thanks, I’m sure.”

“Hmmm...a three” she said and left the room without an explanation.

I sat there alone and slightly confused for about 20 minutes while Rachelle Ray showed me how to make some sort of noodle meal using a strange orange vegetable that would “fool the kids into believing it was cheese”. She called it a “fake out”. All I thought about for those 20 minutes was how bummed I’d be if I sat down to eat something that looked like it was made out of 4 layers off delicious cheese all to realize it was a fake out.

“Hmmm...a three” is not the sort of reassuring thing you want to hear when you tell someone about a concern you have, especially in a dental office. However, upon her return she went back to conducting the exam as if she never left. Didn’t say much anymore and there were too many things in my mouth to ask any decent questions.

She left to find the dentist and returned 15-20 minutes later. During this time I had texted 4 of my friends and City TV was now broadcasting news about the City of Toronto’s Garbage Strike.

The dentist came in, slid into the chair and shone the light in my face. From behind his mask he asked, “Where throbbing pain?” in a thick Russian accent.

I pointed and he probed around for about five seconds.

“Can’t happen.”

“Huh?”

“No, can’t happen there...no pain there.”

“But it throbs right there, like sometimes.”

Within two seconds of deliberation he said quickly, “no. Can’t happen. Not possible.”

“Oh...well I guess I am wrong...” I replied hesitatingly.

“You had work done there before, yes...you see. And yes, no there cannot be pain in that space. Impossible.” He said in a tone that dared me to ask further questions.

“Okay. Well. Thank you,” I said as he got up to leave and shook my hand.

I thanked the hygienist who watched the exam and she pleasantly said it was lovely to have met me. I told her likewise and made for the door.

On the ride home my mum asked what the dentist said and I told her he recommended Colgate total just like 4 out of 5 other dentists and that he’d see me in six months.

It just goes to show I suppose that even when you think you know something, maybe you don’t. Maybe your feelings are impossible or not to be trusted. Perhaps your instincts are just fluff and you shouldn’t feel nervous around the pros. They know what they are doing and we should all just calm down and stop looking for the sealed diplomas that usually line the walls of any respected institution. In any case, it was a trip for the books and for the most part I experienced only minor pain. I did learn however, that being assured is something everyone seems to enjoy. There is something about peace of mind that is sought after and its absence makes the even the best of us wonder if Rachelle Ray really will get fat one day, or if perhaps Tyra could be the next Oprah, or if dental hygienists resembling popular television characters are truly certified. Perhaps what was most significant is that in being unsure of others, we begin being unsure of ourselves.