In the dentist's chair

My lower teeth are in a quandary. There are braces there, but my teeth have no space to migrate. The original plan was for me to get a pre-molar removed so today, my mind was conditioned for a tooth extraction.

The worst part of a tooth extraction is when the dentist injects the anesthesia. The cold feeling of a syringe feels awkward inside the gum, but there's also this weird sensation of the medicine flowing in. After that, it's pretty cool when half my face is numb. I also like the part where the tooth is actually pulled out. It's a real treat to hear the action inside my mouth. My dentist uses this pliers-looking thing to grab hold of the tooth, then it's all grunt work from there. Dentists have wicked-cool gadgets and exceptional upper body strength.

The first thing I hear is a crunching sound. That's when my dentist is loosening the tooth, carefully yanking it from side to side. Then, there's this louder krrrrsssshhh sound when it finally gives. It's also oddly satisfying to see how big the tooth really is. I have two perfectly functional teeth wrapped in tissue paper on my dresser. I would have had a third for my boni collection, if not for my dentist's last-minute decision to just install a spring between two brakcets and wait for the teeth to make space. I was slightly disappointed at the turn of events, I was really looking forward to taking home a tooth. The bright side is that my eating habits remain unhampered. Hurray!

There was another lady in the clinic this afternoon, and she sure found my mouth interesting. Enjoying her attention, I even volunteered information about the status of my dental health. When I sat in the dentist's chair, I thought my encounter with her was over. Instead, I had two women poking around my mouth, talking about the severity of my condition. From the conversation happening overhead, I could tell that she and my dentist were old college friends. They had nicknames for each other and kept beginning sentences with "Maalala mo nung..." The most intriguing bit was when they were talking about anesthesiology class and my dentist said, "Ay, ako binayaran ko yung in-injection ko."

"Ah talaga? Kami noon, wala kaming nakita," the lady replied wistfully. What do you think this means? Are there penniless blokes out there who would let dentistry students practice injecting anesthesia into their mouths for a pretty price? It's a little bit like donating blood, but scarier.

The fish bowl in my dentist's waiting room is gone. Its two occupants have left this earthly plane for Fish Heaven. Upon entering her office after a three-day trip to Manila, my dentist came upon the heady scent of death and decay. Her fish had gone belly up. They were good fish, but were stuck living in a bowl that had seen better days. Let's all take moment of silence.