A frivolous bite of Hershey's, a handful of chocolate chips, an ample spoon of innocently melting ganache and then one day a stinging, nasty pain in the teeth.
And before I know it, I stand before an ominous looking chamber. Yes, the dentist's.
HOW HARD COULD IT BE?
At first, when the pain slightly manifests, I pay it no heed. I mean, what can't five whole minutes of extensive brushing solve, right? But, that sentient pain slowly expands its tentacles all across my jaw, to my forehead and even my ears. As the pain doubles, I'm suddenly begging to be taken to the dentists. I try telling myself, “How hard could it be? I somehow graduated from school, this should merely be a piece of cake.”
OKAY MORE THAN A PIECE OF CAKE
As I'm ushered inside, great monoliths of shades of teeth, pictures of women grinning like there was no tomorrow, sophisticated machines and dental paraphernalia greet me. The dentist is, in fact, quite friendly and she tells me to take my seat on the recliner. As soon as I do though, a dozen machines encompass me; not to mention the huge beam of light that is needed for the dentist to peer into the abyss of my mouth. The light is so bright and perfect that I am tempted to take a selfie right there or ask my mother to snap a candid for me.
As the dentist and the nurse prepare everything, I can't but feel a bit timid. Firstly, this lady will see the entire expanse of my mouth. Tongue, teeth, gum, all of it. What if I have too many cavities? Surely, it won't be a nice sight. Plus, I desperately try to remember fast what my last meal was because I'm in no mood to hear “Oh, you had spinach for dinner” from a complete stranger.
PAIN, PAIN AND ONLY PAIN
The little insecurities that had slithered into my mind before, like a good serpent, now, scampers its way out. Because, what my mind only can focus upon are the painful shoves and pokes the dentist is making with those scary medical instruments. I'm sure the woman has managed to make my gums more swollen than they already were and the toothache is excruciating.
TIRED IS AN UNDER-RATED WORD
The only thing good out of this whole experience is that my name is going to get enlisted in the Guinness Book of World Records for most spitting and rinsing. Throughout it, the dentist's every sentence was punctuated by a nimble order to spit the blood out of my mouth and then rinse it like it was nothing. I also don't get why people get those plastic surgeries done to morph lips. The number of times I was ordered to properly open my mouth and make a gigantic O, my lips must have now been shaped as perfect as that of Angelina Jolie. The whole experience made me tired and all I wanted was to go home.
Finally, the dentist disapprovingly gave a professional briefing of the details of my dental life and then prescribed me some painkillers. And all the while I was thinking to myself:
“Won't I at least get a lollipop?”
Maisha Nazifa Kamal doesn't understand why the black cats meow at everyone else except her. Send her ways to communicate with them at email@example.com