“I would rather go to the dentist for a root canal,” is something people say when they want to emphasize how little they are looking forward to doing the more unpleasant events of life.
I started down my road of dental care in Caldwell, New Jersey. My aunt and uncle lived next door to a dentist, so based off that exhaustive research, my mom took me for my first dental exam. Having as many cavities as teeth, the Dentist upon completing the examination, rubbed his hands together in glee. I am not sure if he was excited about how much money he was going to make or the thought of how much pain he was going to inflict. For those born in a different era, you might be surprised to learn that there was a time when dentists drilled into young children’s teeth without the benefit of Novocain. Sitting in the waiting room and listening to the blood-curdling yells shaking the walls of the waiting room, I looked up at mom and asked her what I could have done to deserve this. In I walked and there was my dentist with drill in hand, giving me a menacing look. “Come in little Arthur.” Anybody who has gone through this no matter how old you are, will never forget the pain that followed the drill meeting the tooth without Novocain. The pain was excruciating, and I jumped screaming in pain. Now Arthur, stop being a baby. A baby? This was right up there with being waterboarded. Years later, they made a movie called Marathon Man that was not that different from what this dentist was doing to me. “Is it safe? Is it safe?” Somehow, I survived these adventurous years of dental ‘care’ and even made it through the removal of both wisdom teeth. For the wisdom teeth, they did give me gas, but all the gas did was act as a paralytic as I felt the pain in a dreamlike nightmare.
This started me on a lifetime of fear and aversion to dentists. After the dentist who never heard of sedation dentistry retired, my new dentist was based on a customer friendship between my dad and a dentist whose qualifications was he could discuss sports coherently with my father. This was a different kind of dental office as his waiting room was littered with old magazines and anything his wife did not want in their house. There was no receptionist and no dental assistant to be found. Sitting there that first time, the door fly’s open, this man appears, and larger than life looks at me, and in a voice too loud for a dental office, yells; “head in moose.”
Like my dad we talked sports. But something was decidedly different. He was drilling into my teeth without the benefit of Novocain, yet I was feeling no pain. “Hey Doc, how are you drilling down to the nerve, and I am feeling no pain?” Without missing a beat, he explained that he had a new revolutionary high-speed drill that was so fast, the drilling was over before you could say malpractice. Another tell-tale sign was that he never asked me for payment or insurance. Having my teeth drilled without sedation, yet no pain and without payment must be the new dental business model. It made perfect sense to me at the time but in my defense, my brain still was not fully developed. It was only later that I learned the real reason I felt no pain was he never drilled down far enough for me to have pain. Still, I went to this dentist long enough that by the time he ran off to Florida with malpractice and insurance fraud charges chasing him down Route 95, my teeth as well as many others in town were ruined.
I finally found a competent dentist in Montclair and after gum surgery and many hundreds of dollars, my teeth were back on the straight and narrow. Unfortunately, she too retired and I was back in dental purgatory. By now, I was working in New York City and again chose my dentist based on the referral of a work friend. This dentist was conveniently located in Greenwich Village right across the street from the 9th Street Path Station, which took me to Hoboken and then to my apartment in Montclair. At first, he was fine. He was personable and competent. But as time went on, his behavior as well as his dental skills became erratic. He would yell at me if I did not turn my head at the correct angle and his fingers were losing their dexterity which caused pain that I had not experienced in the past. I remember my last visit clearly. He was working alone that day, so I ended up serving as his dental assistant as he placed all his instruments on my chest. I had no idea what was going on, but I decided that this would be my last visit. This was confirmed as I removed a few bloody gauze balls from my mouth standing on the platform at the 9th Street Path Station. What I did not know at the time was that the dentist had AIDS and was in the final stages of the disease. He passed away six months after I stopped going to him.
By the mid 1990’s my wife and I had relocated to upstate New York, and I was again searching for a dentist. Like all the dentists I had ever chosen, my new dentist came from a referral. But unlike previous referrals, this dentist was highly recommended by several people. I did not know it at the time but my 40-year sojourn to find a great dentist had come to an end. Called affectionately Dr. Feather Fingers by her patients, she was everything you would ever want in a dentist. She is gentle, caring and treats you like you are the only patient in the office. She always takes the time to explain things and provides options, so you participate in your own care. When needed she gives it to you straight, so when I first started going to her, she told me very diplomatically that my teeth were a mess, and another round of gum surgery was in order. She recommended that I get quarterly cleanings which I have been doing for almost two decades. Her staff is also great, and I have had the same hygienist through the years for my quarterly cleanings. Not surprisingly, my hygienist and I have got to know each other well and like my dentist, she is gentle, thorough, and even laughs at my jokes. She recently retired, which is the common thread of me and dental care. My Dentist has two assistants, both with a lot of experience and both great at their jobs. To me, they all combine to be the dream team of dentistry.
If I am being honest, I can’t say I get excited going to the dentist, but I certainly don’t dread it. The best endorsement I can give my dentist is that after 25 years and nearing seventy years of age, I still have all my teeth. Given my history, that is a miracle.
