Even though memories of the dentist isn’t exactly sweet memories, I still can see some amusement in them…

The first memory of the dentist was when I was about 6 years old. I had a terrible toothache for several days. I didn’t want to go to the dentist, I had never been to any one and I had heard nothing good about them.

My mother had to literally drag me there. I was screaming at first, but went along finally. I remember that I hold on to my bed, refusing to let go of it…

It was caries between two teeth and a severe inflammation around both of those teeth. They quickly decided to pull them out, since it were my first teeth, not the permanent ones. Problem was that the anaesthetic didn’t work…

So what they did was to just hold me down in the chair while pulling it out without the anaesthetic. Of course I cried. And my mother cried. She thought it was an awful experience. The most awful was the taste in my mouth afterwards, all the blood. So I just couldn’t swallow it.

I didn’t swallow for a whole week!

So, how did I manage to communicate? I wrote notes… At the end of the week I realized that this way was rather time consuming and uncomfortable with all the spitting out business, so I took the big step to begin to swallow my saliva again.

I was a bit of an original already in that age. Strange thing was that I didn’t get frightened of the dentists, not more than usual kids.

My next really bad pulling out memory was about 7 years ago when my wisdom tooth were making real trouble. This time I got antibiotics before the pulling out, so there were no problem with the anaesthetic that way.

The big problem was that it had been crooked around the jaw and had to be splitted into smaller parts. And I have a very good tooth quality obviously. Very strong teeth….

The anaesthetic was beginning to fade out and he had struggled so he were covered in sweat to get it out and I only felt how it was firm as a mountain rock. My gums were hurt of the sliding instruments and I was getting really tired. He actually had to straighten up his instruments several times, because they got bent in the procedure…

He did succeed at last, but I was kind of demolished. While writing the bill out, he looked at my sad face and probably felt sorry for me, because I did notice that the bill were much lower than it should be. I guess he didn’t feel like he had done a good job. He also phoned home later that evening too, to hear how it was going.

What surprised me where that he didn’t sew the hole. No stitches. Just a big hole right down. I couldn’t eat other than very light or fluid things, but this time I actually began to swallow my saliva right at the beginning

I did switch dentist though. The next wisdom tooth they took from me, the hole after it were stitched together. No problems. They say that it’s the wisdom teeth in the lower jaw that can be a problem, if you’re unlucky.

I had a very dumb dentist once. I didn’t like her at all. She was not a nice person. She was a sour old hag to be exactly.

She were holding her fingers in my mouth, asking me to bite around something, but I couldn’t because I felt that if I did, I would bite her in the finger! So she said, several times: bite! The last time she said it she sounded really angry on me, so I thought: What the heck, she says that I shall, so she have to blame herself then.

So I did bite the dentist. Hard. With my rather sharp teeth. It felt good. No regrets. And she didn’t say a word.

Last Wednesday when I was at the dentist, he asked me to bite and I remembered that other biting, so I started to laugh, it didn’t go so well. I had to stop laughing so I didn’t bite him. This one is another – nice – dentist.

If they exist. I’m not so sure.

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