Nothing but the Tooth

Vasant  Hattangadi

In all my seventy and odd years, I never had an occasion to see a dentist but for one solitary instance some years back, but, it was more out of choice than any excruciating exigency. I had this rather sharp and prominent a canine tooth that kept sneaking out from the left corner of my mouth giving me a rather unsightly look and a terrible inferiority complex .
At first, when my brother told me that it made me resemble “Count Dracula”, I had taken it as a compliment thinking that latter was a fabulous, romantic hero like Count of Monte Cristo! It was only much later when I saw the film of the same name that I realized that Dracula was a vampire ghost that woke up nightly from its grave to suck the blood of innocent, sleeping women!

         So, I decided, I must get rid of the offending tooth forthwith; but, that species of homo-sapiens known as the dentist, who knocks out your teeth for a hefty fee, was unknown in those days in our little town of Dharwar. The only dentist, who lived some fifteen kilometers away in Hubli, was so expensive that my father would rather prefer suffering from a bad toothache for months together than see him. So, my seeing the dentist for my own cosmetic concerns was simply out of question. I had forgotten all about Dracula and my canine tooth until soon after joining BARC, when I discovered to my great joy and relief that I could easily avail of the services of a qualified orthodontist through our free Health scheme!

       A certain sense of gloom rent the air as I waited my turn in the dentist’s waiting room. Occasionally from inside the dentist’s cubicle I could hear a rather frightening scream followed by soothing words of comfort. After a long wait of fifty minutes, I was finally ushered into the royal presence of the dentist, one Dr.Vajradanti. He was a young fellow with a short, stout build and a somewhat dreadful face that had earned him the sobriquet of “Bulldog”, whereas, in contrast, his assistant was a young, pretty damsel with a sweet, dimpled, captivating smile! The doctor seemed to be a young man, probably just fresh out of the college. With a stylish gesture, he waved me towards a reclining chair that looked like a cross between the “slumberette” seat in an airplane and an octopus! On one of its arms, laid neatly in a small metallic tray covered with a green cloth, was a row of such dreadfully appalling and shining surgical instruments as a tiny pair of cutters, forceps, knives, scalpels, scalars, spreaders, tooth excavators, dental mirrors and a small set of sterilized, hypodermic needles. Hanging down listlessly from the ceiling above was a mini-electric drill with a flexible shaft and also a colored, plastic hose with a small spray-gun attached at the end. Stunned as I was by all these paraphernalia, I slowly sank into the chair and all at once I got this strange feeling of being elevated up into thin air, while the doctor seemed to be sinking fast into the ground! Before long, he stood almost face-to-face in front of me blowing in a whiff of some very pleasant perfume.

            “Yes?” growled the “Bulldog”, as he slipped on his surgical gloves and I quickly told him the purpose of my visit. With gestures he asked me to open my mouth wide open, which I obediently did. He took one disdainful look into my mouth as if it were a Municipal dustbin full of debris and foul smelling body of a dead cat! “Tell me, Mr Hattangadi.” he asked me coolly. “When did you last brush your teeth? Your gums are in such a bad state and your molars are going to the dogs!”  As a matter of fact, it was my morale that was fast sinking! “Look, Mister. You’ve so much plaque and tartar build-up in your mouth.” he continued, as he inserted a shining, little dental scalar into my mouth. “You guys expect your dentist to clean your teeth, don’t you?”  He then proceeded to give me a long discourse on oral hygiene in general and the proper technique of brushing teeth in particular, with a special reference to the high incidence of oral cancer in India!

            At long last, he asked me and I told him the actual business I had come to see him about. He bent down and started exploring the interior of my mouth by shining a small pencil of light into it and waving around a tiny dental mirror. Soon, he had surveyed almost all my teeth while totally ignoring the crooked canine that I wanted to get rid of! At long last, he asked me to point out the offending tooth, which I promptly did. “Seems to me such a nice, little, healthy fellow! It may be a bit mal-positioned or mesially impacted, but that’s no reason to remove it. It’s certainly not a damaged or non-functional tooth. So many people have impacted teeth. Why do you want it removed in the first place? ” he asked me and I gave him my reasons. He tried his best to dissuade me from the idea saying it was very improper to extract an otherwise healthy tooth just for the sake of some stupid, cosmetic notions of mine. After much pleading and persuasion, however, he finally agreed to extract the offending tooth and then, I started feeling suddenly like a nervous little wimp! “Will it hurt too much, Doctor?” I asked “It’s the first time I’m getting a tooth pulled out, you know.”  It was his pretty nurse who responded rather coyly, “Oh, it’s his first time too! But, don’t worry. He is always so gentle and painless! ……Don’t be so nervous, Dear! After all, we are only pulling out a tooth, no?” Those last few words of cheer were not meant for me, but for my profusely perspiring dentist!  

       To make it as painless as possible, he gave me a shot of novocaine directly on the gums and soon, a sense of quiet numbness descended all over my mouth. He first took out an instrument called the elevator that looked somewhat like a tiny screwdriver, wedged it behind the canine tooth in question and applying considerable pressure he tried to lever the tooth out --- but without much success. He then made a small incision on the gums with a tiny scalpel, grasped the tooth firmly with an extraction forceps and tried to dislodge it by vigorously shaking it and rocking it back and forth. He also tried to rotate the tooth, but the forceps slipped out of his hands and the stubborn ‘blighter’ didn’t budge even an iota from his rightful place!  After this went on for some twenty minutes or so, I found it too tiresome to keep my mouth wide open any longer.  I suddenly remembered then what I had recently read in the newspapers about an eye-surgeon in Hyderabad, who had mistakenly gouged out the wrong eye of a person blind in one eye! I secretly hoped my dentist was on the right track and knew exactly which tooth was to be removed. So, in order to confirm, I started bothering him with so many anxious queries that at last he burst out in sheer disgust: “Damn It!  I’m taking out only the blessed tooth and nothing but the tooth. Okay? ” 

            He then proceeded to give me another shot of the anesthetic and rested, when it just occurred to me that here was such a nice, young, eligible bachelor, who would make an excellent match for Komal, my friend Daatpawade’s chubby daughter! So, I started making secrete inquiries about his native place, family background etc and especially, if he was already married and if not, what his expectations were regarding his future bride. Probably, he saw through my game plan, which he obviously didn’t appreciate very much. For, he said, rather irritated. “Uncle, you talk too much!” and immediately proceeded to insert into my mouth a “spreader” --- a springy, metallic contraption that effectively prevented me from talking any further! He could now continue with his work in peace, concentrating all his energies on the ominous tooth!! After a few more unsuccessful attempts at tooth extraction, he looked at the watch, excused himself and vanished into thin air with the pretty nurse in tow, leaving me sitting there all alone with my mouth so wide open!!!

            I must have waited there in that state of helpless agony for what seemed like ages with no sign of either Dr. Vajradanti or his beautiful aide-de-camp.  Soon, I had a severe jaw-ache that I could hardly withstand. I staggered out of my chair and rushed into the corridor only to find the whole place completely deserted. When I saw a lone ward-boy coming in, I immediately beckoned and asked him in sign language where all the people had gone. Without a word, he carelessly pointed out to the wall clock and then, suddenly, it dawned upon me! I should have known. It was 3:30 pm, the official tea-time --- when well nigh the whole of BARC walks so punctiliously towards the Canteen! I too could have done with a cup of tea, I thought --- but not with that blessed contraption stuck in my mouth!! The physical and mental strain of keeping the mouth constantly open was now too much to bear any longer.

            I must have passed out. For, when I opened my eyes I found myself back in the dentist’s chair staring into a pair of worried faces belonging to the dentist and his beautiful assistant. Pointing towards my mouth, I silently pleaded with them to relieve me from my long ordeal. The dentist promptly removed the clamp only to discover, to his utter shock and dismay, that I could not move my jaws even a bit! I was in what they called a ‘locked-jaw’ condition and now, it was the dentist’s turn to go into a faint!! The poor chap had obviously not asked for this jam. The pretty nurse turned panicky and ran out into the corridor screaming for help. There was great commotion out there and I could hear several voices and feet running up and down the corridor. She soon returned followed by a posse of doctors and nurses who soon got down to the business of reviving the dentist. No one noticed that I was still sitting there witnessing the proceedings like a dumb fellow with my mouth still wide open --- until a senior doctor peeped in to see what the commotion was all about. He promptly took charge of the situation. He first ordered the dentist to be moved out into another room and then, he turned to me. He was experienced enough and knew exactly what was to be done with me. Without a word of warning, he grabbed me by the neck and dragged me to the nearest wall. He then proceeded systematically to bang my head against the wall with gusto and lo, soon my jaw was unlocked! Rubbing my aching head, I mustered enough courage and strength to mumble a weak “Thank you, Doc.”         

Later, when no one was looking, I stealthily inserted my right index finger into my mouth, frantically looking for Mr. Dracula, my favorite canine. The blighter was still there sitting pretty, perhaps smiling in his sleeves! Thank God, my ‘Experiment with the Tooth' was over.