prillalar | The Strange Intimacy of Dentistry

Friday I was back at the dentist yet again. I've had a lot of dentistry in the last year and a half. This is mainly because I had no dentistry at all for the six years previous. (Let that be a lesson, blah blah blah flosscakes.) I've had several new fillings, several replaced fillings, a root canal, and then, when the root canal tooth got brittle and broke, a crown, which then chipped after three weeks and had to be replaced. Hopefully I'm done for a while. My co-workers were beginning to tease me about having a thing for my dentist (so not true!) and it's been rather expensive.

Whenever I'm there, though, I tend to think about how oddly intimate the experience is. It's not just having people's fingers in your mouth -- it's having your chest used as a shelf for instruments, people's hands squashed against your nose, covering your eyes, having your head jammed up against the dentist's middle. It's probably just as well you can't carry on any conversation because how awkward would that be?

The medical intimacy we're supposed to ignore, not form relationships around, unlike the grooming intimacy of hair stylists and the like. I wonder why that is. Maybe because grooming is a usual thing, evolutionarily speaking (so why don't we do more of it?) and medical things are invasive. So to keep it from bothering us, we have to almost pretend that it isn't happening.

I've had so much dentistry that I'm worried that it's getting too familiar. That I'm beginning to enjoy it in a twisted way. Do you remember Little Shop of Horrors? In one scene, Steve Martin is playing a sadistic dentist. Then in comes Bill Murray, the masochistic dental patient.

"I think I need a root canal," he says. "A long, slow root canal."

I hope it doesn't come to that for me. I just don't have the money.

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I was in a similar situation and had 10 fillings and 3 root canals and 2 caps. (I'm still waiting on a crown lengthening and cap on #3).

I know just what you mean. I've gotten so used to the dentist that I just relax in the chair. They're so solicitous that I think I'm finally understanding the attraction of the medical variety of hurt-comfort fic.

It does help that my dentist is one hell of a looker. Yum.

I'll have you know that I have very close relations with my dental hygienist. Well, she is my mother. *g* Plus she manages to carry on loads of conversations given the gossip that she used to come home with.

I've gotten so used to the dentist that I just relax in the chair.

I don't think I ever relax; rather, I'm so used to the discomfort and stress of it that I enjoy its familiarity. Either that or I'm a sick fuck with a dental fetish. *g*

My dentist is a nice older man, not much of a looker, but very reasurring.

How does she carry on the conversations? While I was lying there waiting the six minutes for the epoxy or whatever to set on my crown, the dentist was out of the room and the assisstant was making an awkward attempt to communicate with me by asking me yes or no questions, but she didn't really get very far.

I think it's the trust thing. You give yours and if the doctor is good, s/he takes care of you. The difference between dentistry and a lot of surgery is that you're awake for it, completely aware of what is going on, even if you're numbed up the wazoo.

Sidenote #1: I have actually gotten to that mindstate where the unidentifiable (to my nerves) buzzing of a dental drill slips from ouch to oh, and it's quite tolerable, if not exactly pleasurable. It takes just the right amount of novocaine.

Sidenote #2: A friend of mine and I used to share the same dentist, and she had quite the hots for him. I don't see it, exactly, but do agree that he's a nice guy and could be hunky in the right light...

I love that scene from Little Shop; in fact, I'm bringing it to the clip party (http://www.matchbookfilms.com/cjereneta/clipparty/) this year.

I have never had invasive dental work. I have crappy gums as a rule, but great teeth. I always find dental visits oddly relaxing -- it's one of the few times in my life when I'm not expected to do *anything*. But then, I'm just getting a cleaning. I suspect I'd feel differently if I had a root canal. Yow.

Oh.My.God. I'm going in for a crown next week. I have drugs to take first so I won't be such a complete fucking freak--I shake, everywhere, like I can feel the muscles around my hipbones and knees and shoulderblades quaking. I cut my nails before I go to the dentist because otherwise I cut up my palms and/or the backs of the opposite hands. Tears run inexplicably out of my eyes, into my ears. This is when I go in for a damn cleaning. I'm pretty sure this counts as a bona fide big-ass phobia. I go because I have kids to serve as an example for; otherwise I would never darken the doorstep of a dentist again. They do keep offering drugs for cleanings, too, although I just can't bring myself to take them simply because what would it say about me that I need a damn valium to get my teeth cleaned? Ew. But for the crown, while they will have to be in my mouth for a long time, yes, I'm going there; getting a shell of rotted-out tooth extracted a few months ago (a 15 minute procedure) convinced me of the necessity.

Anyway. Yes, it is oddly intimate. I always think this while I am crying and shaking and hugged up against my dentist who is pulling and twisting and poking and choking me. OK, now I'm getting all icky-feeling just thinking about it. Ew.

Sidenote #1: I have actually gotten to that mindstate where the unidentifiable (to my nerves) buzzing of a dental drill slips from ouch to oh, and it's quite tolerable, if not exactly pleasurable. It takes just the right amount of novocaine.

I can see that. I think I'm almost there. *g*

Jeez, I'm half-way to writing dental kink fic now!

The root canal wasn't *that* bad, not compared to what everyone told me to expect. People at work were all, oh, you'll be miserable -- take the day off! So I did. And I felt fine, so I went to the movies in the afternoon. (I suppose a more responsible person would have gone into work anyhow. *g*)

Yikes! I think it's totally reasonable to medicate even for the cleaning, if it's that much of a stressor for you. I hope everything goes smoothly for you next week.

Well, in my experience, she asks questions. You Charlie Brown Grownup an answer. She then takes the spit sucker out of your mouth and allows you to answer. She shoves it back in and then goes on talking again. Repeat as necessary when it comes to the next question. *g*

Do you remember Little Shop of Horrors? In one scene, Steve Martin is playing a sadistic dentist. Then in comes Bill Murray, the masochistic dental patient.
In the original movie, the masochistic patient who wants all his teeth pulled is Jack Nicholson in his first screen role.

The Strange Intimacy of Dentistry

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