the Traumatic Experience that wasn't even traumatic

I've always been a good tooth-brusher.

Honestly, I've always had good dental hygiene, whch was why I wasn't worried at all about going to the dentist this morning. That is, other than the expected discomfort of the dentist's fingers in my mouth, the not-so-tasty flavor of latex gloves, and the decidedly unpleasant tickling of the tooth-cleaning device and its gritty aftertaste. But I was pretty well resigned to those things.

However, I wasn't expecting to have or resigned to having

my

first

cavity.

One thing I like about my dentist is that he doesn't generally ask me questions when his fingers are in my mouth. I think that's quite considerate of him. Sometimes he'll talk to me about his family or the weather or the misspelled captions on the television screen, but he doesn't expect me to respond when his fingers and his sharp objects are inside my mouth.

But something was different today. After the usual small-talk, the dentist got quiet as he focused on a single tooth. He selected a different cold metal tool (you'd think they could warm them up before sticking them in your mouth) and pressed the tip against one of my molars, where it sunk in slightly. That's when I knew something was not good. He did this several more times, and then announced the tragedy.

"Well, today your perfect record has been broken. You have a small cavity."

I had a momentary flashback to my childhood. I loved going to the dentist when I was little. Why wouldn't I? He cleaned my teeth, gave me bubble-gum-flavored dental floss, (I remember liking it so much that I carried it around in the pocket of my jacket, even to the library) and a pink plastic ring for good behavior. The dental hygienists were my special friends (especially Miss Sandy...) I never really understood why some children came into the dentist's office screaming and crying. My brothers and I looked forward to our appointment for months.

Of course, I had never had a cavity.

I heard about how the dentists drilled holes in people's teeth. But I never worried about having a cavity, because I was a good tooth-brusher. And I didn't even drink soda pop. So I never really worried. And I didn't worry today.

I was rather surprised today, though, and a bit disappointed. I had had fantasies of maintaining my perfect dental record at the ripe old age of 102, when I would tell my great-great-grandchildren that never drinking soda was most definitely worth it. (They probably wouldn't believe me, though. I was well-trained. My parents didn't give me soda, and to this day I simply don't like soft drinks. I've never had a whole one in my life, and I don't think I've ever so much as tasted a Dr. Pepper. But don't tell Pastor Bud I said that.)

Anyhow, all my dreams were shattered with that fateful announcement. I didn't know where the cavity came from. I still brush my teeth pretty well. Evidently some people just get cavities for no apparent reason. I have now decided to never have a reason. Maybe I can still have a nearly-perfect dental record at the age of 102.


Anyhow, we decided to have the cavity filled right then and there. When I was little, I always thought that having a cavity filled would be a Traumatic Experience, not so much for the drilling but for the wounds of shame that would be drilled into my soul. I was always proud of my perfect record.

Having a cavity wasn't quite as shameful as I thought. Although I was disappointed, I tried to find the silver lining....

At least it was a small cavity. It didn't even show up on the x-ray. I've had 13 teeth pulled, 2 years of braces, and my wisdom teeth removed, so I knew that the filling wasn't going to really bother me. Hey, I'd even get to miss an extra class at school. My face would still be numb, so I wouldn't have to talk in Spanish class (although speaking doesn't really bother me, it's the grammar that's tough). I'd get to have Jello for lunch.

The dentist was busy, so I tried to take a little nap while I was waiting in the chair. I tried to get as much enjoyment from the experience as I could...enjoying not sitting at a hard plastic desk, not studying math, and not taking notes. Eventually the dentist came in to give me the gum-numbing shot, and I got all stressed out again. That always hurts. And then they left me alone again to wait for my face to freeze. I took another little snooze-a-roo (as someone would say, but I don't remember who). Then the dentist returned and started drilling. It didn't particularly bother me--I kept waiting for it to hurt, until I realized that the worst part must be over and so I relaxed.

I left with a very numb face, which was rather amusing in English class since I had to pass notes for someone else to read aloud if I had a comment on the book we were discussing. I tried to talk once, much to everyone's amusement. It didn't work very well because I still couldn't feel my tongue or the right half of my face. I felt strange not being able to smile or say hello in the hall--I do that all the time. By the end of Spanish class, I started to be able to feel my face, and the numbness was gone by the end of lunch. I had a short day since I missed the first 25% of the school day. I didn't feel any pain at all when the numbness was gone.

So overall, having a cavity filled was not traumatic at all. Just to let you know.