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To the electric chair!

I am taking the cue from Seraphic Girl. I have a strong hatred for the electric chair. Okay its the not same the executioner uses but it is similar. I think this is the best way to describe one's visit to the Dentist.

My family has a history I think. Or maybe we are just blessed with not-so-perfect teeth. Don't get me wrong, I have mine intact. But to get over the milk teeth phase, I had to face the electric chair many a times. I loved chocolate. I still do but had to pay a heavy price. Lets call the man behind the chair Dr. D. Good looking, very qualified and everything you would want your dentist to be.

Wrong. Yeah, wrong. Why? Because he took his own sweet time to work upon your teeth. He would use more than five gloves while you sat open mouth on that electric chair with that spot lite-like light staring at you! He would wash his hands god knows how many times. I know hygiene is of utmost importance but when you are sitting there with your mouth open, you just want to get done with it and flee.

At least I wanted to. The first time I went to him I was six. Yes only six and had nine teeth extracted. Lets not get into that ok? The next time I met him, I was 13 and had two root canals to be taken care off. Then began my drudgery. He would work upon my teeth for hours. I remember sitting there for four hours at a stretch with my mouth open and hurting.

"If it hurts too much, raise your hand ok?", said Dr. D. How considerate! But I don't think he would look at my forever raised hand at all. I remember him showing me the pins he was going to shove into my gums. He spoke to me at length about them. Which ones are good and why he was doing so. And all this while he never used aneasthesia! If I cried out, which I did once or twice, he would ask me to learn Karate. Why? I was baffled by this suggestion then.

"Because my dear you are timid!," said Dr.D. Timid my foot! Pins and gums don't make a comfortable combination. But whatever. I stopped going thereafter. My teeth are ok now. No pain. But I ain't visiting a Dr. D again!

So I leave you guys with this poem by Philip Lore-

I hate the Dentist Chair

Moaning and groaning, hitting the roof,
Unbearable
pain, I've got a bad tooth.
Nothing I take can ease the pain,
Not ice packs or aspirin...I'm going insane.

Relentless throbbing deep in my jaw,
At the end of my string, I head for the
door.
Sweat covers my face, soaks my hair,
My body shakes, I'm filled with despair

Waiting to see the dentist,
I hold in my fear,
Sharp pains pulsating,
My eyes starting to tear.
Holding my chin,
Running my fingers through my hair,
I fidget,
I cringe,
Thinking of the dentist chair.

He tries to hide the needle,
That will make my face so numb,
The dentist thinks he fooled me,
Does he think I'm that dumb?

I feel him
drill at a merciless pace,
Oh God, bits and pieces hitting my face.
Smoke rises up, he continues to drill,
I begin to squirm, I can't sit still.

My eyes open wide, they flutter in pain,
Another big needle filled with novacaine.
My face gets numb,
Can't feel my nose,
Feel so uptight,
I Scrunch my toes.

He packs my jaw,
With wads of cotton,
Taste my blood,
Breath smells rotten.

With rubbery legs,
Sore finger tips,
I try to speak,
What's wrong with my lips?

Saliva dripping, down my chin,
I sound so silly, I begin to grin.

So I give you this message,
Believe me...It's true...
Don't eat candy...
Cause this will happen to you!


[Hmmmfff...somebody should have warned me!]


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