Second Helpings

If I Had a Hammer

I believe one of the worst things about going to the dentist is the noise. From the drills to the suction tools and all manner of things in between, they all make me squirm. Anyone who has ever had a tooth pulled will also be familiar with that awful snapping sound when body and tooth are parted forever. But today, I experienced a totally new noise, which I don't think I'll forget in a hurry. Have you ever heard the sound of hammer on bone? Believe me, it's quite an experience. BANG BANG BANG.

The implant I'm having required the insertion of a small titanium screw into the jaw bone this morning. This required the physical manipulation of changing the shape of the bone to best suit the implant. No sophisticated tools needed apparently; just a simple silver mallet. BANG BANG BANG.

So for forty minutes I tried to divert my thoughts from the pounding sound of hammer on bone. As each blow reverberated through my whole skull I feared my head might fly off completely, roll across the wooden floor, out the door, into the road and get run over by a passing vehicle. I knew I shouldn't have had that wine last night. BANG BANG BANG.

I concentrated on the tunes coming from the radio, but feared any minute the DJ might decide to play 'Bang Bang, Maxwell's silver hammer came down upon her head', so gave up on that. BANG BANG BANG.

I once read no one can think of anyone else's pain or troubles while sitting in the dentist's chair, so I thought I'd prove that theory wrong. So, I thought about my dad in hospital, my mum roaming around in a confused state in La La Land, my son working to cope with his new family and a friend I haven't heard from in a while who I know has been ill. But it was all very depressing. BANG BANG BANG.

I decided to think of someone who has been through far worse dental treatment than mine. I thought of a friend of my sisters who after losing a leg through thrombosis in her fifties, was diagnosed with mouth cancer and had to lose half her jaw and teeth, then have them reconstructed. Brave lady indeed. BANG BANG BANG.

During a lull I heard the message tone of my mobile phone and was touched and comforted that someone was thinking of me during my ordeal and had sent me a supportive message. Then I turned my thoughts to how I could blog about my morning in hell. BANG BANG BANG.

At last it was over and I was shown X-rays of my new body part which fits neatly inside my jawbone between the tooth and the bottom of my nose. I have yet to give it a name. I left the surgery with my head still echoing and parting with an arm and leg for the pleasure. I checked my phone to discover the message was actually a promotion offer from my phone company. I crawled back to bed to lick my wounds and rest my bruised and battered skull and just as I was nodding off, work started on the building site outside. BANG BANG BANG.

Methinks I may just crack open that can of lager ce soir.