Dentist's Needle, The

The Dentist's Needle

By Steve Laker

It was ironic that Kate should be in the bathroom when she realised
that she had a decision to make. Ironic because it had been in that
same bathroom that she had made so many crossroads-of-life type
decisions before. The pain had got worse, but her fear prevented her
from doing exactly that which she knew she had to. Her reflection gazed
back across the sink from the mirror on the wall. She had bags big
enough to sleep in under her bloodshot eyes, and as she stared back at
herself she spotted a single grey hair among her otherwise jet black
locks. She looked older than her twenty-one years. This thing was
ageing her now.

But she couldn't face it tonight. Taking the bottle of Paracetamol from
her bag, she tipped six tablets into her shaking and sweaty palm. Four
had been enough that afternoon and the same amount four times daily for
the last month or so had kept the pain at bay. Now it was worse than
ever though, and she watched herself wince in the mirror every time she
stood up from the sink to swallow the pills as the cold water washed
through her mouth. With the last one down, she opened her mouth and
peered down the hole so evidently the offender in her molar.

She knew it was a stupid thing to do, but she put her finger in her
mouth anyway, and pressed down on the offending tooth. It was as though
a sharp metal spike had shot out from the end of her finger as she did
so and it burrowed its way deep into her gum. The pain was
excruciating, but she did it again anyway. It was a compulsion, like
all of the times she'd sought out the hole with the tip of her tongue.
It was a personal endurance test, almost self justification of the fact
that if she could tolerate her own self-torture, then the tooth should
be allowed to stay. Swallowing another two pills for luck, she placed
the bottle back in her bag. There was no way she'd let such a little
thing ruin her big Friday night out.

Back outside, the club had filled up while Kate had been in the
bathroom. Surely, she thought, she couldn't have been gone that long?
Emma was just being served at the bar as Kate returned though. Maybe
the pills were affecting her perception of time? "Are you okay?" Emma
asked, looking concerned. "Still playing you up?" She'd noticed Kate
holding her cheek. "You should get that sorted girl."

"I know." Kate said, rubbing her face. "Still, you never know, me and
you might fall out tonight. If we end up fighting, do me a favour?
Knock this out will you?" She opened her mouth before picking up one of
the four glasses that had just been delivered by the barman.

"Cheers." Emma picked up a drink and raised it to Kate. "I got us two
each. Saves coming back to the bar." The two of them laughed. "Happy
birthday."

The ice cubes felt to Kate like they were covered in cold, hard metal
spikes, which deliberately made their way down her hole. She popped
another couple of pills though and knew that they and the drink would
see her through the night.

Kate had a reasonable night by recent standards, waking just the once
at four in the morning. Another four pills down her throat, and
although unable to sleep, she didn't need to wake Emma and made it
through the remainder of the night. As she laid awake, staring at the
ceiling and willing the sun to bring the light of day into the room,
Kate vowed to call her mother later and ask her to take her to the
dentist.

Hours seemed to pass, and Kate's mind was occupied by many distracting
thoughts. The last time she'd been to the dentist had been when she was
fifteen. She'd always been scared of Mr. Hall, but she didn't know
exactly why. He was a friendly man, always gentle in all that he did,
and he always told her beforehand what he was going to do. He always
gave her a lollipop before she went home, telling her that she was a
"brave girl." The last time she was there he'd commented to Kate's mum
on what a good-looking young woman Kate was turning out to be. Her mum
told her how brave she was being too, going into the dentist's room
alone, which is how Kate liked it as she didn't want her mum to fuss
over her. That was all that she could remember though, as so great was
her fear that she always had to have a sedative jab in her arm,
effectively knocking her out. Once that stuff was in, she didn't care
what Mr. Hall did, she just knew that under its influence she'd wake up
in the end and not have to be back there for a while.

Something changed after that last visit though, and that was where she
knew her Odontophobia had arisen. When she came round from the
sedative, she'd felt stranger than usual. She always felt groggy, but
that was somehow different. Try as she might, she couldn't quite put
her finger on it or remember what it was. Now though she had a real
clinical phobia. She'd looked up Odontophobia on the Internet. It is a
fear of dental procedures, as opposed to Dentophobia, which is a fear
of dentists themselves. She suffered another anxiety, which was
apparently common in sufferers of the former, and that was a fear of
needles, or more specifically, syringes. According to her research,
this fear was more common in women because of the phallic association
of a syringe with it's penetrative ability and the whole violation of
one's flesh thing.

This was all well and good, but still provided no singular identifiable
reason for Kate's fears. Her phobia was now at the stage where it was
affecting the quality of her life, and she knew she had to confront it
somehow. Going with her mum seemed a logical first step.

Once, in desperation, Kate had even sought the help of a hypnotist.
He'd regressed her to her childhood dental sessions, but they were
unable to identify the root of her fear. He'd tried making her aware of
her surroundings whilst in those regressive sessions, but again the
search was fruitless. Rather than answers, Kate had left his consulting
room with nothing more than leaflets on self-help techniques and
anxiety management.

Kate's mum met her outside the surgery. This being the school holidays,
she'd figured it a good opportunity for Hannah to have a check up.
Hannah was Kate's younger sister, whom she'd not seen for about six
months. The last time, Hannah had been in school uniform, and Kate was
surprised how much older she looked now, quite tarty, her outfit
belying her twelve years. That day, Hannah's birthday, was the last
time that Kate had seen her mum too. Time had not been good to her mum,
probably partly due to bringing the wayward Hannah up alone, and Kate
before her.

Inside the dentist's, nothing much had changed in six years. Bumbling,
fumbling, mumbling old Betty was still at the reception desk in the
waiting room, the big wood-rimmed clock above her head still
threatening to jump down on her at any moment. Mr Hall's name was still
the only one on the wall under the list of practitioners. The waiting
room was bereft of any other patients, and as she craned her neck over
the desk to look at the appointments book, Kate saw that would be the
case for the rest of the day. It was no wonder they'd been able to book
emergency appointments, but a wonder that the place was still here at
all. What passed for d?cor hadn't changed either. A combination of
off-white skirting boards, doors and ceiling, and a kind of blue on the
walls that Kate remembered as Duck egg blue that she used to paint the
undercarriages of model planes with as a child. Sitting on the kind of
plastic chairs she remembered from school, Kate rummaged through the
reading material on the glass-topped coffee table. None of the
magazines were younger than two years, and the puzzle books had all
been completed or defaced. Thank God they wouldn't have to wait long
then.

Betty shuffled through the off-white door and along the Duck egg blue
corridor to the surgery, returning two minutes later with Mr Hall in
tow. He greeted them with a friendly smile as he examined the
appointments book, for reasons only he must have known. He hadn't aged
at all. Perhaps he was carrying a little more weight around his waist,
but that could just as easily been the hang of his off-white coat. He
was a quietly spoken man, well mannered, and apparently still in his
mid forties as he had been six years ago. He had a gentle, friendly and
not unattractive face with a certain lived-in look about it. "Who's
first then?" he said as he stood up and looked at the three of them.
"The usual Kate?" She tried to smile or nod, but nothing was
forthcoming as she stood up to follow him through the off-white
door.

Kate's heart was beating fast as she walked behind Mr Hall, trying to
relax herself by imitating his slow, purposeful, but slightly mincing
walk down the Duck egg corridor. Entering the off-white surgery at the
end, she minced over to the black leather chair in the middle of the
room and tried to relax beneath the imposing glow of the overhead lamp.
As she stared up at its imposing glow, she tried to remember her
self-help leaflets.

It could have been the alcohol from the previous night, the joint she'd
smoked before leaving the flat, or possibly the cumulative effect of
all those Paracetamol tablets. Whatever it was, she was grateful of it,
because as she stared back at the light she felt strangely relaxed and
somehow detached from herself. She closed her eyes and seemed to drift
away from the impending horror of the outside, even though she was not
yet sedated. She was aware of Mr Hall making preparations in the room
around her and her hearing seemed enhanced. She heard the tear of a
foil-lined package as Mr Hall opened a fresh pair of disposable gloves,
and then the stretching of rubber as he put them on. She could hear his
breathing, heavy and loud now, seemingly all around her, but close too.
She felt the needle start to go in, but wasn't the slightest bit
concerned. She was so far detached now, that he could have been doing
this to anyone. She was high now, perhaps with the knowledge that she
was coming to terms with her fear now, and a realisation that when it
was all done, the pain would be gone.

A gentle push and the needle was fully in. As its effects took a hold
Kate couldn't move, as though some great unseen weight were bearing
down upon her. For a moment she was tempted to struggle, but realised
it would be futile and so left Mr Hall to do his work.

Coming round, Kate felt groggy as usual, and her surroundings took on
their normal surreal qualities, with the dividing line between reality
and hallucination being very blurred. She also felt liberation though,
as the pain was gone. She was in the waiting room again, and her mum
was at the desk, taking money from Betty. Change, presumably. Hannah
looked a little nervous sitting beside her, but smiled as Mr Hall
looked up from next to Betty. "You next young lady", he smiled.

Mr Hall held the off-white door open for Hannah, and as she walked
ahead of him down the Duck egg corridor, he turned to Kate's mum.
"That's another fine looking young woman you're going to have there",
and smiled.

? Steve Laker, 2000