My first cavity experience

Today I went to get my cavities taken care of. And let me tell you, I’m about 89% positive that getting your first cavity as an adult is way more traumatizing than getting it as a child. (This may also have something to do with the fact that I had four cavities – four!)

I get to the dentist office and, for the first time ever, don’t have to wait more than a minute. I guess when you have cavities, they feel bad for you, so you don’t have to wait as long. Anyway, I get all set up in my chair… I am totally freaking out!

Reason #1 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: No one feels the need to soothe you that it will all be okay in the end. You’re expected to put big kid pants on yourself and deal with it.

The Dentist comes in makes some small talk (“You’re going back to school soon, right? Cool.”) and then we get to poking around in my mouth. After assessing that yes, I do still have four cavities, he explains that we will 1) Numb my mouth on the left side only where the deeper cavities are 2) Use a laser on the right side of my mouth where the shallow cavity is and 3) Use “manual tools” on the deeper cavities.

I’m sorry, manual tools? Is that the new terminology now, not “drill?” Because I’m pretty sure it’s just going to be a drill, a big DePaul-whatever-Mach-5000 drill bit going in my tooth and rattling my skull.

Reason #2 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: You can come up with some pretty elaborate yet realistic situations that you might find yourself in. As a child, everything is still (evil) unicorns and fairytales gone wrong. I’m pretty sure a DeWalt-Volt-16-Megawatts drill is a real thing (sorry unicorns).

So the Dentist and Assistant swipe some numbing gel on my left side. And I know what comes next: an anesthetic needle. Needle! Give me a mountain, I’ll climb it. Write me a speech, I’ll deliver it. Show me sharp medical tools, I’ll probably freak out. In anticipation of a needle arriving in my gums, I look up at the ceiling. Waaaayyyyyyyy up. The Dentist warns me that I might feel a little pinch and then inserts the loooonnnnnngg pointy needle into my mouth. As he’s doing this, he shakes my jaw a little, for what reason, I don’t know. But it only makes this even more nerve-wracking – and not just because they are literally inserting anesthesia into my nerves.

Two scary shots later, and I’m well on my way to numbness. Dentist and Assistant take this time to go get the laser machine from the other room. A shiny piece of equipment on wheels, it was not what I was expecting (a satellite-shaped ray gun, perhaps?) but its resemblance to all the other dental tools is reassuring. The Dentist then informs me that I will wear a special pair of glasses to protect me from the laser. The Assistant places a pair of green-tinted glasses shaped like something you might see on a BMX biker awkwardly onto my face. And suddenly, this whole experience has become something out of a bad 1950s sci-fi TV movie.

The green tint of the lenses turned the room a sickly two-tone color scheme; two mask-wearing figures are looming on the sides of my vision; an overly-bright dental lamp hovers over my face, only partially blocking my view of the dated fluorescent light on the ceiling. The Dentist is even wearing an extra set of goggles over his regular specs, obscuring his face entirely, and wielding a laser for goodness’ sake! which gives this entire operation an air of alien-invasion mixed with futuristic-science.

what I thought was happening

what was actually happening

Deciding it is still too risky to look at the scary dentist tools, my eyes find themselves firmly fixed on the ceiling. Anyone who has been to a dental hygienist office before knows what this ceiling looks like: 12”x12” white squares with random dots to cushion the noise. I must have been staring at them for too long because I began to see a crescent shape in the dots that formed a haphazard smiley face. Before I knew it, I was staring at the Cheshire Cat’s devilish grin.

Reason #3 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: Your imagination is still (overly) active. But with more wildly-child-unfriendly movie scenes for flavor.

More and more tools passed between the two masked figures. Laser, spit-sucking-tube, water-sprayer, flame torch… no really, there was a noise in my mouth that sounded like a flame thrower.

As I continued to stare at the ceiling, I saw strange patterns that shifted and morphed before my very eyes, through the green lenses filter: Preppy coral, lava lamp blobs… Focusing on the fluorescent light, I saw more patterns: green hipster Navajo… Pistol-shaped tooth polishing tool passes through my line of vision…

And then it was over! The glasses came off and Dentist declared me done!

And just in time because any more of that and I might’ve gone running straight out the door and into the HUAC committee meetings and begged McCarthy to save me from the Russian Alien doctors planting tracking chips in my enamel.

Reason #4 Why Cavities are More Traumatizing as an Adult: You have historical references of what happens when science, medicine, and politics go awry.

So that is what it is like for a college student getting their first cavity. I hope it never happens to you. Or if it does/did, that your mouth is not still numb two hours later (like mine is right now).

The end.