In which I moan a bit and feel sorry for myself
We got there early, and talked as we sat in the waiting room. A lady I'd never seen before came and invited us into her room. 'That's fine', I told myself, 'my usual lady has obviously gone on holiday, this other one is bound to be just as good.'
I sat in the dentist's chair and M followed me in, explaining his role as emergency translator. The dentist turned to me with a smile, 'what can we do for you?' she asked and I explained how it was the last in a series of appointments, filling my surprising number of (undetected despite regular checkups in several countries) holes with shiny white fillings.
She took a quick look and said that there were two fillings left to be done, and that we could do them both together straight away. I settled back, expecting her to start with that normal role call '6-5-missing 4-3...' and whatever else it is that dentists tell their assistants to write down, but to my surprise I heard the drill.
'Ok, don't panic' I said to myself as the drill started boring into the tooth, 'lots of people don't opt for anaesthetic, it'll save me a bob or two and maybe it won't be that painful...' a needle of pain shot through my tooth's nerve, into my jaw. I thought about changing my mind and made a conscious effort to breathe and unclench my hands, which had somehow found each other in my lap and were gripped tightly together. The drill continued, and as a new bolt of pain shook my body so that I almost lept from the chair clear into the air, I came to my senses 'uurghahouuuu' I attempted through a mouthful of drill and sucking tubes. She removed them for me. 'Could we try this with...' 'anaethetic?' she finished, which was a good thing because in my confusion and pain the Polish for anaesthetic had hidden itself firmly at the back of my brain and was refusing to come out. 'Yes please' I replied, calming my breathing and trying to stop my top lip from quivering.
She got the needle out and started sticking it in all around the tooth. 'Ow!' I thought, quietly in my head, and willed her to be more gentle. She didn't wait for the anaesthetic to kick in before the drill started up again, and when she hit the nerve again, causing another involuntary jump from yours truly, she exchanged looks with her assistant that plainly said 'oh for Christ's sake, no one's this pathetic!'
It was pretty clear by this point that I hated her. No, hate's a bit strong but I did mildly detest her. She completed the drilling, filled the holes and did all the finishing off with none of the care and patience shown by my previous dentist at the surgery. A (very expensive) clean and polish later I was free to go.
Thankfully that was the last dentist appointment until my next checkup. Urgh. Hate drills.
I sat in the dentist's chair and M followed me in, explaining his role as emergency translator. The dentist turned to me with a smile, 'what can we do for you?' she asked and I explained how it was the last in a series of appointments, filling my surprising number of (undetected despite regular checkups in several countries) holes with shiny white fillings.
She took a quick look and said that there were two fillings left to be done, and that we could do them both together straight away. I settled back, expecting her to start with that normal role call '6-5-missing 4-3...' and whatever else it is that dentists tell their assistants to write down, but to my surprise I heard the drill.
'Ok, don't panic' I said to myself as the drill started boring into the tooth, 'lots of people don't opt for anaesthetic, it'll save me a bob or two and maybe it won't be that painful...' a needle of pain shot through my tooth's nerve, into my jaw. I thought about changing my mind and made a conscious effort to breathe and unclench my hands, which had somehow found each other in my lap and were gripped tightly together. The drill continued, and as a new bolt of pain shook my body so that I almost lept from the chair clear into the air, I came to my senses 'uurghahouuuu' I attempted through a mouthful of drill and sucking tubes. She removed them for me. 'Could we try this with...' 'anaethetic?' she finished, which was a good thing because in my confusion and pain the Polish for anaesthetic had hidden itself firmly at the back of my brain and was refusing to come out. 'Yes please' I replied, calming my breathing and trying to stop my top lip from quivering.
She got the needle out and started sticking it in all around the tooth. 'Ow!' I thought, quietly in my head, and willed her to be more gentle. She didn't wait for the anaesthetic to kick in before the drill started up again, and when she hit the nerve again, causing another involuntary jump from yours truly, she exchanged looks with her assistant that plainly said 'oh for Christ's sake, no one's this pathetic!'
It was pretty clear by this point that I hated her. No, hate's a bit strong but I did mildly detest her. She completed the drilling, filled the holes and did all the finishing off with none of the care and patience shown by my previous dentist at the surgery. A (very expensive) clean and polish later I was free to go.
Thankfully that was the last dentist appointment until my next checkup. Urgh. Hate drills.
posted by Becca | 4:11 pm
4 Comments:
This is so unbelievably awful. And to think I was considering making my first appointment with a Warsaw dentist soon.
Why would anyone choose not to have anaesthetic, other than saving a bob or two?
Awful. Like something of The Marathon Man.
Don't panic crow, the other dentist I had was fantastic - she was so gentle and ALWAYS asked if I wanted anaesthetic.
Just make sure it's the first thing you say when you get there...
Ooh, interesting, Szwed comes out of hiding...
Chapeau bas.
What, that?
Oh, it`s just a silly old thing I did to see how long my resolve to keep blogging would last. 5 posts, was it?
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