I had lots of problems with my baby teeth. Cavities and gold crowns, bridges and pulled teeth. I probably looked like a rap-star come to think of it. Everytime a tooth was pulled we would keep it in one of those tiny yellow envelopes, so that I could put it under my pillow for the tooth fairy. The tooth fairy paid better money for a tooth with roots still attached, than one that had been lost of natural causes...
I had lots of problems with dentists. They all seemed to be so violent, I was so little and they didn't know how to deal with me crying from the extensive pain. They'd yell at me and get rougher and rougher, sometimes it felt that they were making the needles and drills hurt more, just because they hated little children... just because they hated me.
I felt bad for my mother. She was protective of me, sometimes making them stop the torture and taking me away in the middle of procedures. We went from one dentist, to another, to another... they all seemed to be the same... taking pleasure in being assholes to kids. We didn't have money and I knew it must have been expensive for her, when all she was trying to do was take away the pain. So one day before going to a new dentist, I decided I couldn't let my mother keep paying for dentist after dentist.. I would stay at this one, and try to take the pain without showing it. I decided that day, that I would laugh when it hurt, instead of cry.
It worked too, everytime Dr. Czochanski took out the syringe to numb my mouth, I'd start to giggle. Usually a tear or two would run down the side of my face, but I'd smile and laugh harder the more it hurt. Dr. Czochanski would laugh too, and smile, he was gentle and would reassure me. He seemed to think I was a happy-go-lucky kid, laughing all the time, and he looked forward to seeing me. "There she is! My laughy patient, she always laughs when she's here.." he'd explain to the dental assistant.
A few years ago, and many years since I'd been to see Dr. Czochanski, I realized this practice of mine had become deeply ingrained in my personality. When things would hurt, I'd laugh about it or start to make jokes to combat the topic. Somehow it would allow me to hurt privately, avoid the worst embarrassments, and never allow people in sight of my vulnerabilities.
He who laughs last, isn't laughing.
About Me
- karissa
- I shriek in my car after getting in on a cold night... somehow I think it will bring me warmth, and at the same time, I can keep up the illusion that nobody can hear me. Sometimes, I walk down the street and I feel so incredibly alive that the wind feels like my energy, and I feel as though if I tried hard enough, I could pick myself up off the ground. When I sing on elevators, I believe that the people that get in don't know it was me. And sometimes, I will fall asleep ...and the dreamworld feels more like reality than the life I find myself in.
No comments:
Post a Comment