My dentist rocks.

I’ve had a pretty good run with my teeth. There have been trials, but I always came through unscathed thinking, “that wasn’t so bad.” One of the first major problems I ran into was an extra tooth in the top row. What were the odds? The dentist that removed it insisted I was feeling “pressure”, not pain, as he yanked it out with what I assume were pliers. I was 8 or 9 at the time, and my memory of the event had him putting a foot up against the chair and pulling with both hands. It was stubborn, and I was surprised to learn just how long the root of a tooth really was below the gumline.

Despite my mom’s predictions due to my snacking affection, I made it into my 20s without a single cavity. After college, I worked for four years for a company that had no dental insurance, so when I finally did return to my dentist, I expected the worst. I had one impacted wisdom tooth, and another with an impressive cavity. I went to an oral surgeon and had all four removed at once, completely anesthetized for the procedure. An animated gif of a tooth being drilled apart and removed in pieces convinced me that I wouldn’t want to be conscious. After a day or two of changing blood-soaked gauze, that experience became a fading memory as well. The most challenging aspect of it was that I was serving on a grand jury at the time, so I couldn’t take time off like I would with work. I managed to do it on a Friday afternoon and recover over the weekend before returning to the court on Monday morning.

I resumed regular visits to my dentist twice a year. I flossed and used mouthwash. I decided that the cavity in my departed wisdom tooth didn’t “count”. I drank milk and had strong teeth and bones. I was in my late 20s before I had my first “real” cavity. My regular dentist was unavailable after my regular work hours, so I ended up having the filling done by his partner. I feared the worst. In my mind, a filling was this silver or gold metallic foreign blotch on otherwise flawless white(ish) teeth. I thought about my mom’s fillings, or my dad’s fake back teeth on a removable metal arch. I would be hideous and forever single.

Dental technology has advanced. The procedure was painless, though the flying sparks and smell of burning rubber or sealant disturbed me. When it was all over he handed me a mirror. After filing and smoothing and buffing, the slightly lighter spot on one of my back teeth was barely noticeable if I didn’t know where to look. Even now, I’m not positive which tooth has it.

Years passed, and I took that dentist’s word as gospel. He assured me that with proper care, I would never have another cavity. I was a little surprised when a second one was found, but I knew what to expect. That time I was able to get an appointment with my regular dentist, and he proved even more adept. I was given protective goggles, sparks were minimal, and the procedure took half the time. There was a mild pinch from the needle, then all was numb and it was otherwise a painless experience. Once again, the material matched my teeth and blended in.

About a week ago, I went in for my latest cleaning and exam. I had noticed a very tiny spot a few days earlier, on my upper right center tooth near the gumline, and hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was. Somehow, despite meticulous care, I found myself with a third cavity. Three cavities in 32 years isn’t so bad, but it still bothers me. Sometimes I’m too tired to floss, and I realize all those little times I skip that step might add up. Nevertheless, it was very small and though my dentist said there was no rush, he did say we needed to take care of it.

Friday morning, I headed in before work, expecting a half hour procedure. I joked with the nurse, “Quick and painless, right?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she said with potential sincerity, “It’s right up front. That’s gonna clear your sinuses if they weren’t already.” I laughed nervously as I was fitted with protective goggles.

The dentist applied a local anesthetic, then pushed cotton under my upper lip and warned me of a little pinch. With my eyes clenched shut and my upper teeth protruding over my lower lip, I hoped I wasn’t inadvertently making an offensive face at my Asian dentist. I felt the needle enter my gum, and then something weird. It felt to me as if it went through the gum, came out somewhere inside my nose, and then shot cold anesthetic down my throat. I’m sure the needle wasn’t that big and my nerve endings were just firing off impulses where they weren’t numb. I felt like my throat wouldn’t close, and tears involuntarily poured out of my right eye and streamed down my face. “Ahboch hey!” I said, giving a thumbs-up.

I sat for a few minutes while they waited for the area to get nice and numb. I felt a tiny surge of pain when he first poked the inside of the cavity, and then that went insensate as well. There was buzzing and draining as the dentist worked and conversed with the hygienist. Ten minutes in, I felt my chair rising as he removed the cotton and offered me a cup to rinse my mouth. Because it was such a small cavity, they charged me $90 instead of the usual $180.

I’m adding fluoride rinses to my daily routine in the interest of preventing future cavities. I don’t know if they’re inevitable. My parents thought I’d have a lot of the same problems they do, but not everything has manifested yet. By the time they were my age, they were both wearing glasses. They insist that I need to be careful with the computer, books, and television, but so far I’ve been lucky. I definitely have fewer cavities than they did by this point in their lives. I definitely have a great dentist and if more fillings are needed in the future, I’m not worried about it. I just hope I never need a root canal or anything more serious, so I’ll remain as vigilant as possible. I can’t imagine how I once went four years without going to the dentist. I suspect one of my band leaders has never set foot in a dentist’s office. His son’s latest girlfriend, when I finally saw her smile after another player told me to watch for it, looks like someone took a bat to her teeth, then colored half of the survivors in with a magic marker. You need to take care of your grill; slacking in that area can lead to roads I never want to travel down.