The dreaded dental chair

Have you ever sat in a dentist’s chair? I’ve had to sit in one several times, thanks to my aching teeth. No doubt, a dental chair is great for sitting, reclining, or even sleeping. But wait, which dentist would allow you to sleep? 

Every time I sat in a dentist’s chair, the first thing I noticed was an array of sharp, stainless steel instruments neatly arranged in a tray. It was a terrifying sight that sent shock waves through me. I wondered, ‘Oh my God, which one will he use on me? ’ As I sat there, fearing what would come next, my dentist pressed a lever with his legs, lowering the chair. He commanded me to open my mouth. When I did, he was not happy. He commanded, “Open wider, still more, and more.” It felt like my cheeks might burst open! Merciless, he jabbed, poked, and prodded, searching for the “root cause” of my teeth sensitivity. He used various instruments to explore between my teeth and along my gums. Occasionally, he would use what can only be described as a mini water cannon to splash water, leaving me gasping for breath as a chilling sensation radiated through my body. I felt as though I was sitting on an electric chair, yet the dentist seemed unfazed by the electrical instruments in his hand. I was relieved when he attributed my discomfort to decayed teeth rather than electric shocks, although I remained unconvinced. 

I struggled to breathe as debris from my gums and water from the “canon” accumulated in my mouth. The dentist went about his job unconcerned about my discomfort at having to stomach all that debris. Finally, I gathered enough courage to raise my hand, signalling for him to stop. He then called his assistant to suction out the water and debris, acting as a vacuum cleaner inside my mouth. I silently wondered why this wasn’t done earlier. 

“Your molar has a deep cavity,” he announced, followed by a recommendation for a “root canal.” As someone more familiar with Panama and Suez canals, the concept of a root canal caught me off guard. To add to my anxiety, he mentioned that after a root canal, the tooth, or whatever part of it remains, needs a cap. And as if it weren’t enough, he informed me that my teeth needed scaling. As in scaling a mountain? I was confused. He clarified that the plaque deposited around my teeth needed to be removed. 

After scheduling the dates of dredging, capping, and scaling, I left the clinic overwhelmed. A photo of a young lady with a lovely smile and sparkling white teeth on the door appeared to mock me as I walked out. 

Back home, as I  relaxed in my favourite rocking chair, the dread of the dental chair lingered in my mind. My wife called out, “Why are you keeping your mouth wide open? Please shut up, dear, will you?”