”Oh my goooood it’s so cute!” are words I hear every time I visit the dentist. Lucky me, entertaining a whole medical profession (not!). The first time I found out that the Universe had bestowed on me an extra tooth was when I was shown an x-ray sometime after removing my wisdom teeth. It’s no ordinary tooth, it’s a mini-tooth, one that has absolutely no function. It’s just extra, as if the Turkish merchant weighed my ordered half a kilo of hazelnuts and decided to throw in one more, just to prove his generosity. Well, generosity that you never really wanted, or needed, always becomes a bit cumbersome.
The tooth slowly started making its way through my gums, finally becoming unbearable, functionless (I love making up new words!). Kind of like an intern that doesn’t really want to be there, and you don’t quite manage to designate meaningful tasks. So the daily encounters become awkward. So finally, I had enough. I booked an appointment to get a consultation. I was recommended a dental clinic in Tbilisi where I was warmly greeted, having to adhere to all the sanitary Covid precautions which included wearing a face mask, which I thought was hilarious considering I was there to get my mouth examined!
The clinic itself was like stepping into a time-travel machine, destination 1980’s. Everything was sterile, but paint flaking on the walls, strong smell of old-fashioned disinfectant, beige equipment that looked like it belonged to a movie studio, did little to boost my confidence. The dentist’s behavior was immaculate, motherly, and I finally trusted her. She was lovely.
After the examination I was prompted to step into the x-ray booth and after the “click” I heard roaring laughter. Not the quiet lets-not-let-the-patient-know kind of giggles, but the non-compromising laughter that attracts everyone in ear shot. When I stepped out of the booth there were five dentists looking at the screen laughing at “the cute tooth”. Yes, thank you very much. How much should I charge for the show?
“You can’t leave today without letting us extract the tooth” the dentist told me. Oh no please, I wanted to make an appointment for next week, so I could go home, have a glass of wine, and mentally prepare for the ordeal. I wasn't prepared to have a body part extracted just yet. But the five dentists were so keen that they managed to convince me that I was ready to “Just do it!”. Why postpone till tomorrow what you can do today, right? Yeah, right!
And that’s when “the surgeon” walked into the room. Resembling a butcher, the Slaughterer from Srebernica, Warcraft’s Slaughter of Biel'aran Ridge, Samurai Jin, seizing up his next victim. He did thankfully have smiling eyes even though the rest of him was hidden behind protective gear (thank you Covid for creating a reassuring atmosphere). My survival strategy zoomed in on his compassionate gaze and kind voice that kept saying the right things: “It won’t hurt at all. I have extracted countless teeth for 25 years. This is such a small tooth you won’t feel a thing.”
When I sank into the dental chair my breath was shallow. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I was so caught off guard by how I ended up in the situation that I didn't have time to summon my inner viking warrior. My Valkyrie is usually on standby, but in this moment I was completely alone. Instead I felt small. I wanted someone to hold my hand. I wanted my mom, my boys. I wanted someone to drive me home. I was trying so hard to be brave. But I felt like a little girl, wanting to make everyone proud of her, while she just wants a sparkly unicorn to gallop her into the starry night.
Novocain injections before I know it and it's off-to-the-circus-we-go. The crushing sound inside my jaw as massive pliers struggle with my little demon could have come from a horror movie. And then suddenly, the mother-fucker-no-good-for-nothing-tooth was extracted. The Slaughterer did what he set out to do. There were no swooping-in heroes to save me. No magical euphoria. No fanfare. Just a simple satisfaction that I had managed to be my own hero. I finally rejected the gift I never needed. Thank you Universe for your generosity, but next time would you please make sure it’s a welcomed gift? No more extra body parts please (except for hair, ok, I could definitely do with some more hair. On the head of course).
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