BLOOD, GUTS AND GLORY
Its 10:45 am and I am already 15 minutes late. Do I really have to go through this? I was here purely on by my own volition. Absolutely no one to blame for the predicament I found myself in; except maybe bad genes?
I stepped across the threshold and come face to face with my would-be tormentor. A mere slip of a girl, skinny with granny glasses and a ready smile. “All ready?” she queries. “As ready as a lamb led to the slaughter will ever be,” I think to myself.
She looked into my mouth and in my mind’s eye I see her rubbing her hands with glee. I have been blessed with the most crooked teeth this side of the Vindhyas, and am thus every dentist’s delight and not to be overly modest, also one of the major contributors towards fattening their bank balances.
All professional she says, “Open Wide,” while deftly ticking a suction pipe into my mouth. After a quick look-see using the tiny mirror, she grabs hold of the scaler, a wicked looking curved hook held perilously close to my eye, and begins what she had innocuously called a “thorough cleaning”.
The taste of plain old water, rubber gloves and the feel of metal scraping against my teeth; it took all my will power not to gag and make a complete fool of myself. Couple this with the whine of the machinery and exhortations to “relax” and my misery was complete. How anyone can be expected to relax in this kind of an ambience is beyond my comprehension.
We got two quadrants done (the whole mouth is divided into four quadrants rather like you would divide an orange into quarters) and then disaster stuck. An elderly lady walked in and in broken Tamil and English proceeded to give the dentist a vivid description of the allergies she had suffered due to the medicine she had been given the previous day. After multiple attempts by the dentist to figure out the name of the drug, (which was met with-“it was a small white capsule” doctor!!!), the elderly lady proceeded to hunt through her rather capacious bag in search of the elusive prescription. I had had enough, and I stealthily pulled the suction device out of my mouth.
A few minutes respite while the prescription got rewritten and then the dentist went right back into the procedure with renewed vigor. I had gone back to praying to all the gods whose names I rememberd to end this ordeal quickly- when it happened. Strains of “ Mungaru malaye……” emanated from the hidden speakers and I knew that was a sign from the heavens above that I was going to get through this. The next few minutes were spent visualizing the glorious jog falls that Ganesh (the Kannada actor who was the movie’s tragic hero) had perched himself beside and the next 15 minutes passed in a jiffy. There is definitely something to be said about this whole visualizing business for sure!!
I stepped across the threshold and come face to face with my would-be tormentor. A mere slip of a girl, skinny with granny glasses and a ready smile. “All ready?” she queries. “As ready as a lamb led to the slaughter will ever be,” I think to myself.
She looked into my mouth and in my mind’s eye I see her rubbing her hands with glee. I have been blessed with the most crooked teeth this side of the Vindhyas, and am thus every dentist’s delight and not to be overly modest, also one of the major contributors towards fattening their bank balances.
All professional she says, “Open Wide,” while deftly ticking a suction pipe into my mouth. After a quick look-see using the tiny mirror, she grabs hold of the scaler, a wicked looking curved hook held perilously close to my eye, and begins what she had innocuously called a “thorough cleaning”.
The taste of plain old water, rubber gloves and the feel of metal scraping against my teeth; it took all my will power not to gag and make a complete fool of myself. Couple this with the whine of the machinery and exhortations to “relax” and my misery was complete. How anyone can be expected to relax in this kind of an ambience is beyond my comprehension.
We got two quadrants done (the whole mouth is divided into four quadrants rather like you would divide an orange into quarters) and then disaster stuck. An elderly lady walked in and in broken Tamil and English proceeded to give the dentist a vivid description of the allergies she had suffered due to the medicine she had been given the previous day. After multiple attempts by the dentist to figure out the name of the drug, (which was met with-“it was a small white capsule” doctor!!!), the elderly lady proceeded to hunt through her rather capacious bag in search of the elusive prescription. I had had enough, and I stealthily pulled the suction device out of my mouth.
A few minutes respite while the prescription got rewritten and then the dentist went right back into the procedure with renewed vigor. I had gone back to praying to all the gods whose names I rememberd to end this ordeal quickly- when it happened. Strains of “ Mungaru malaye……” emanated from the hidden speakers and I knew that was a sign from the heavens above that I was going to get through this. The next few minutes were spent visualizing the glorious jog falls that Ganesh (the Kannada actor who was the movie’s tragic hero) had perched himself beside and the next 15 minutes passed in a jiffy. There is definitely something to be said about this whole visualizing business for sure!!
posted by newatthis at 11:10 AM
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