This Won't Hurt A Bit

"It's pina colada!" must rank as one of the things you're least likely to hear when you're sitting in a dentist's chair. But truth is stranger than fiction and that is exactly what my dentist's assistant said to me a few hours ago. Sadly she was not referring the contents of a cocktail glass, but to an anaesthetic cream that she was about to administer.

I was not sure whether to be amused, gratified or just a little disturbed that a manufacturer of anaesthetic would choose that precise flavour. Why not peach, for instance, or simply a bland and reassuringly dental mint flavour? In the event it didn't matter because the cream tasted more of cloves than coconuts. So much for truth in advertising,

I was quite curious and apprehensive about what to expect in the dental surgery. Curious, because this would be my first dental procedure ever. This surprises some people; it certainly surprised my dentist. The first time she examined me, she kept muttering "no fillings!" in muted lower-case amazement.

Apprehensive, because I've been reared on a diet of popular culture which makes the dentist out to be the spiritual descendant of the medieval inquisitor. They both uses pointy metallic tools, so the resemblance is real. Though in defense of inquisitors I don't believe that they ever employed chirpy female assistants.

Dentists, on the other hand, seem to only employ people who are excessively cheerful. Or perhaps they become that way. Perhaps their effervescence is an occupational disease, triggered by over-exposure to laughing gas. And isn't that just the most wonderful name, laughing gas? As soon as I hear the words "laughing gas" I find myself giggling a little.

I didn't get any gas, though, only an anaesthetic injection. I'll admit I was a bit uncertain about that. The only previous time I'd had local anaethesia, a nurse said to me "Get ready, I'm going to give you an anaesthetic injection and it'll hurt". Then, as I pondered the irony of those words, she went ahead and proved them to be true. Of course on that occasion I did not have the benefit of numbing cream masquerading as a pina colada. I did have that this afternoon, and so I did not feel a thing.

Instead I listened with a strange sense of disconnection as the dentist, poked, prodded, jimmied and eventually ripped out my wisdom teeth. It's quite odd to be aware of something that should hurt like hell but you don't feel a thing.

Kudos to the dentist of course. If she's half as good at extracting confessions as she is at extracting teeth, she'll be my pick for Imperial Grand Inquisitor any day!