My childhood dentist, John Martielli, had an office above a five-and-a-dime — or was it a grocery? — in the Woodlawn section of Baltimore. We went twice a year. I climbed the staircase, hoping against hope I wouldn’t have cavities. Over the course of my childhood, I must have had six-eight and each one left me with the feeling that I had been stamped UNCLEAN. (My sister seldom had cavities.) There was always a debate about who got to go first; we Lippmans were big believers in getting unpleasant things out of the way. If I went second, I whiled away the hours with Highlights — Goofus and Gallant, find the hidden objects. Does Highlights have any purpose other than being in doctors’ and dentists’ offices? Are there newsstand copies of Highlights?
If the worst happened and I had a cavity, there was no Novocaine or painkiller. I don’t remember there being any pain, either. I simply hated the whine of the drill. Cavities were filled with a silver compound, pressed into the tooth with this cunning little device that reminds me of what baristas use for espresso. No eating for an hour, but our post-dentist reward was a trip to the bakery around the corner, the divine Bauhoff’s, home to the best chocolate drop and chocolate chip cookies, not to mention pink-and-white refrigerator cookies and cherry drop cookies. It was almost worth going to the dentist to get those cookies, even if you .
It turned out to be my destiny to have a lot of dental adventures. Poor and without dental insurance in Waco, Texas, I chose a dentist to remove my wisdom teeth based on price — $40 a pop, Novocaine only, spread over three visits. I believe it was the second visit, when the dentist was wrestling with one of the teeth — blood spattering everywhere in those pre-HIV conscious days, the tooth resolutely not budging, the dentist muttering “This is so much harder than it looked” — that I began to doubt the wisdom of this approach to medical care. On the third visit, I burst into tears and they gave me a little gas out of pity.
In San Antonio, I had an excellent dentist, which I needed after knocking out three teeth in a bike accident. Back in Baltimore, I returned to my childhood dentist. He, I figured, had no reason to denigrate his own work; he would replace fillings only as needed.
Dr. Martielli took care of my teeth off and on for almost 35 years. He died in a freak accident a few years back, trimming trees in his yard. A few months later, I spit out two of my back teeth, cracked from gritting. (Oh, that was a proud moment at work, holding my teeth in my palm, calling to my boss: “Look, Harry — I spit my teeth out.” He was pretty grossed out and, in Harry’s defense, he was not the boss who had caused me to grind my teeth.) This led to crowns, which led to an infection, which led to root canal, which led to a surgery I can neither spell nor pronounce but felt like being punched in the jaw and gum repeatedly for two hours, which led to a nice little stash of Percoset that I’ve held in reserve for almost three years now. Then I found yet another new dentist, who informed me that all of Dr. Martielli’s silver fillings had outlived their usefulness and needed to be replaced.
I spread the work over the past year. It was finished this week. Aesthetically, medically, I know the new fillings are better. But I feel a twinge of sorrow, losing that final connection to Dr. Martielli, who took such good care of my teeth over the years.
What were the rituals of your doctor/dentist visits? What did you dread, what did you love? And can you top the idiocy of a 29-year-old woman who, upon falling from her bike, decided she didn’t want to break her arm so she wasn’t going to bring it up to shield her face? Yes, that explains the scar on my upper lip for those of you too polite to mention it.
On the plus side — no braces. I did get to skip that.
I’m another one – no novocain. Didn’t even KNOW you could for years; my mother explained later on when I whined t her about this that in the years that the high speed drill was introduced, apparently parents and others were told “they won’t need novocain” because it was SO much better than before. Yeah, right. Bullshit beyond belief. Pain and trauma and white knuckles for me for YEARS until some time in the late 70s when I was at a gay pride event in Oakland and met the guys from “all american smile” dentistry – and they convinced me to come in. And they didn’t hurt me and they didn’t laugh at me for being a neurotic wreck. And their office staff told me about “Willow” an all women’s retreat in Napa where I went a few times and loved.
I thought everyone had cavities and didn’t realize no, that not everyone had a gizillion fillings til I was older. But I had braces too and THAT hurt. Yep. Hmph. But I could NOT manage the retainer – the plastic plate just made me gag, so they didn’t do everything they were supposed to do. That was, I think AFTER the day I had 12 teeth pulled because “my mouth was too crowded”; I no longer really remember. But that was the only time I ever had gas for any oral/dental work.
Honey? Percoset you’ve had for almost 3 years is likely NOT to work as well as you want it to after 3 years. It will have lost some potency, though I don’t really know how much. I took the stuff this year for the first time for a few weeks. Not sure what I think – not sure how well it worked. But I think you should just get rid of it. Er, give it to me, yeah, I’ll take care of it for you.
And while we haven’t gone to “Espresso Dental” it DOES exist here in Seattle and YES you can get a latte while you’re waiting.
I had to change pediatric dentists when I was little because the dentist upset me and I bit him and refused to go back. I don’t remember the person I switched to as we moved shortly after that, and I went to the same dentist as my parents until we moved too far away when my husband started graduate school. That dentist retired a few years ago and it was hard on my mother to choose someone new after so many decades.
I had braces also, but refused to wear the headgear, so it took a LONG time for my teeth to move appropriately.
Ugh – dentists! My vague memories of childhood dentistry include irregular visits only, but lots and lots of fillings. I do remember that the dentist had a treasure chest (shaped and colored just like one you’d expect to find in on a pirate ship) from which we got to choose our goodies at the end of the visit.
Fast forward many, many years (I don’t think I actually visited a dentist between elementary school and my first job out of grad school). Of course, by then, the years of neglect had taken their toll. I started with an extraction and bridge, followed by replacement of some of those old silver fillings. Oy, the expense!! But the worst was yet to come. A year after moving to our new home, I quit smoking. And started cracking teeth. Frequently. I think I’ve had root canals in all molars and most of my premolars (no, I’m not exaggerating).
My new dentist, whom I really enjoy as a person, kept telling me that I’m just too intense and that I needed to do something to relax. I am eternally grateful that she suggested taking up horseback riding, but I apparently approach that with the same intensity that I do everything else. In any event, it didn’t stop me from grinding my teeth as promised. And gave me something else to spend lots of money on
And speaking of novocaine — anyone else have a problem staying numb? Depending on where the work is being done, I may need 4+ shots per visit. And boy, does that feel great after . . . (NOT!).
Oh — I forgot a couple of doctor dreads/loves. When I was really young, I contracted tonsillitis frequently. I actually didn’t mind getting it, though, because the antibiotic syrup I got (a lovely, deep pink in color) was delicious. A sort of tart cherry flavor, much better than anything my daughter was ever prescribed.
I also learned not to dread shots by freaking out so badly in the face of my first tetanus shot that I actually blanked out, screamed and kicked the doctor. Having recovered my senses and been told of my offense by my horrified mother, I offered to be good for the shot, but the doc told me he had already given it to me. As I hadn’t felt a thing (d’uh!), I concluded that shots didn’t hurt.
I was wrong, of course
But I’ve never been afraid of them since.
Kerry, one of my jobs as a high school student was ato work for a kid’s dentist; he specialized in patients like Lois, who’d bee treated badly and had been traumatized by lousy dentists. I still rememer the family of 3 kids who had been treated by mom’s brother, I think it was, and who apparently didn’t believe the kids who said “it still hurts” because, like you, they had a really high tolerance of novocain. But this guy believed the kids and wouldn’t start until they were okay. It was, probably, when i began to realize that not all dentists were sadists. I don’t get why someone would want to BE a dentist (and Stu’s brother IS one) but I appreciate those good ones.
Well…My childhood dentist sucked. Luckily, I had no cavities growing up. But I needed braces and didn’t have them. And some (4) teeth needed to come out, but were left in.
So, about a dozen years ago, I had 8 teeth pulled at once. Four impacted wisdom teeth and the 4 mentioned above. As a result, I have four holes where teeth should be. They’re not at the front, but you can see ‘em when I smile. Makes me look like a pirate, which I suppose is some consolation. I woke up in the middle of the surgery, with a dental surgeon’s knee on my chest and a chisel in my mouth. I said, “I’m awake you know,” or something like that, and they gave me more gas and I was gone again. Next thing I remember, I was drooling blood, mumbling, “You’re really pretty…are you married?” to the dental assistant in the recovery room. Not my finest hour.
But the Percocet were good eats, that’s for sure.
Is it safe?
Yes, yes it’s very safe.
Is it safe?
Oh, and I hated the fact that I was told “That better be sugarless gum.” The one time I chewed gum walking into the dentists office. There are two places that feel like I’m being interrogated by the police, the barber: “When was your last haircut?” “Six weeks ago?” “You should have come back sooner.” And the dentist, “How often do you brush your teeth?” “Twice a day?” “PROVE IT!” Just clean my teeth and stop asking questions.
My dentist when I was a kid had the nickname “The Butcher of Hailsham”.
‘Nuff said.
Wow Laura, its scary how close our dental histories are. I also had a dentist, Dr. Carbone, who didn’t use novacaine. He eventually suggested to my mother that my sensitive teeth might be better served by someone who used novacaine. So at about age 15 I had my first novacaine. Since I’m a real wimp about needles, I wasn’t sure which was worse, the novacaine or the sensitivity.
When I got my wisdom teeth out I also did it with just novacaine. But this was because my dentist in DC (wonderful woman) wasn’t set up to use gas. I had all four done at once. And like you there was one that just wouldn’t come out. She told me she was going to give one more tug and if that didn’t work I’d have to go to someone who could cut it out. This was because the root was very close to the nerve and she didn’t want to risk any nerve damage by struggling too much with it. Fortunately that last tug worked.
I’m hoping that we don’t follow the same path with regard to crowns and root canals. I’ve only had one of each and I don’t want any more. But I’m sure there’s at least one more in my future. My biggest worry though is that I don’t currently have dental insurance. So not only do I get the inconvenience, I also get a whopping bill I can’t afford.
I too had a childhood that included a mouth full of cavities. My first cavity and subsequent filling was at age 5. I was scared but decided soon enough that it didn’t hurt as bad as when my teeth hurt! I always got a shot (I’m a big whiner) or two of novacaine and always enjoyed looking like I’d been a fight from the fat lip that lasted a good hour or so.
I too read Highlights and haven’t seen it anywhere else (except at my kids’ dentist’s office). Oh! And when we were all finished, Doctor Murphy gave us little trinkets (a hard plastic baby doll, a whistle, a tiny joke book, you know, treasures!).
I had a very good dentist that I still use whenever I’m back home — and in fact, I really need to go dentist-shopping in New York because even though my insurance doesn’t kick in till December, my teeth can’t wait — but this always summed things up:
http://www.banned-width.com/shel/works/books/differentdances/dentists.html
Sean – proposing to people while you’re under the influence of anesthesia is, if not required behavior, so standard as to be normal. Trust me.
My mouth is full of silver and that fake tooth-looking stuff they use now. I’ve blocked out the memory of my routine dentist visits, because they were too many to count and I always had a cavity. But I remember vividly when I had all four of my wisdom teeth out when I was 20, lots of Valium and no solid food for three days. I also had to suffer through orthodontia. Every kid in my high school went to the same guy, Dr. Maris, who had weekly drawings to win record albums. Problem was, he was a big Bee Gee fan and there was little diversion from that in the selection. Fortunately, I never won any of the drawings. He put the album covers up on the ceiling, so when he was working on our teeth and we were staring up, all those Bee Gee album covers were staring down at us. The Bee Gees still freak me out.
Oh I got the braces, just not until I was 30. So I had both the agony of braces and the pain of paying for them. On the plus side, my teeth are much better as a result.
I have not thought of Highlights magazine for years!
My most acute dread as a child was the fluoride treatment, the disgusting liquid in those styrofoam sort of cases they clamped on your teeth. I am not kidding when I say that my brothers and I were the most unpopular patients in the whole practice, we all invariably threw up dramatically–uncontrollably–when given this stuff. It was the drip down your throat that really did it (I realize in adulthood that what I have is an extremely strong gag reflex).
When I was having my wisdom teeth out (free, on amazing dental insurance that I wish I’d had last year when I had to pay for a root canal) I was studying for a final exam on Virgil’s Aeneid, so I always associate that Latin verse with strange bloody holes in the mouth. Which is actually rather suitable for the poem, I expect that’s why it stuck with me.