Short Story

Client: H Bauer Publishing Ltd - "Take A Break" magazine, UK

Audience: Low-to-middle income, female 18-65

OPEN WIDE ...

"And how long has it been since your last check-up?"

She can't answer, of course, not while her mouth is open wider than absolutely necessary. Not while the dentist is poking around in there with a mirror on a stick and a curved spike that scrapes all over her teeth. You know what I mean - as soon as it hits a soft spot, in it goes, prod, prod, scrape ... worse than fingernails on a blackboard.

She gurgles something I can't make out, but Doctor's been at this job a lot longer than I have, and understands every single last gasp and grunt.

"Hm. That's way too long," he says in his soothing dentist voice. "Every six months, that's what we recommend. Now, open a little wider."

"Can't," she bubbles.

"Yes you can," he replies, "Just a bit more, and ... perfect. Now, Sally, would you mind?"

I'm a trainee dental nurse. I've only been here a week, but I'm beginning to know what Doctor wants, just by the tone. I pick up the pad, the one with the diagram of teeth on it, and start scribbling as he speaks.

Here a hole, there a hole, scrape, scrape, everywhere a deep hole. A particularly nasty one on a lower left molar and a pretty horrible one next to it, as well. Even I know they'll have to be seen to, and fast. The nerves are exposed. If the nerve dies, so does the tooth.

"Yes, I think we're going to have to do something about those two", murmurs Docotor, casually. Her eyes widen. I've seen that expression before. It says Oh, no.

"Oh, yes," says Doctor, "The sooner the better. Otherwise you're going to lose them both. Any you wouldn't like that, would you? Shall we deal with them now?"

There's panic in her eyes. He switches on his soothing voice. I swear, if he was a lawyer, he'd have the jury eating out of his hand as soon as he stood up to speak. So appealing. So persuasive.

"I really think it would be better for you. At least you won't have to worry about coming back for fillings like these next time. The others are relatively minor, but these ... if I had the choice, I'd get it over and done with now."

She nods, almost imperceptably. And speaks clearly for the first time.

"OK," she sighs. "OK."

"That's excellent." He turns to me. "Sally, would you mind?"

This time it's a different tone of voice. The one that says 'hand me a swab and get the needle ready.'

I hand him the cotton bud, and while he's busy poking it into her mouth to take the sting off the needle that comes next, turn away to deal with the syringe and anaesthetic.

"Right, open wide ... that's it."

The needle goes in.

"Now, it'll take a minute or two before your mouth becomes numb, and we can get on with it. So just lie back, and relax."

She folds her arms across her ample chest. Last time I saw it, most of was exposed for all the world to see. And all the world was taking a very good look. This time, it's demurely covered in a crinkly blue plastic napkin.

She closes her eyes, and tries to relax while we prepare her for the fillings. It's not easy when you know the drill is going to start in a couple of minutes, and you're going to feel the vibrations zinging through your skull, painkiller or no painkiller. It isn't easy to relax when that little metal clip goes around your tooth, holding the rubber sheet to stop bits of tooth and filling getting stuck in your throat. And it's not easy when you have that tube sucking at the inside of your face and you can hear the whoosh of suction that changes as you try and push it away to stop it tugging at the back of your tongue. While you can smell burning. Very close by.

No, it's not easy to relax in that situation. Not easy at all. Every now and then her eyes open and look up at us.

Doctor picks up the probe, and scrapes at her tooth.

"Can you still feel that?"

She nods, wide-eyed, while the suction tube hisses below the rubber sheet.

"Hm. Well, we'll give it another minute and then see how it goes, shall we?"

She can still feel the scraping ten minutes later. Doctor is beginning to lose patience. I can tell by the tone of voice. He picks up the syringe one more time and empties it into her gum.

"Now, he says to her, calmly, soothingly, Don't you think we're taking this a little too far? I know it's been a long time since your last checkup, and I know you think you can feel everything, but believe me, you won't feel a thing. Shall we get this over and done with?"

She sighs, and nods, resignedly.

I take the syringe Doctor's handing me. And try not to think about last Saturday night. Try not to remember walking out of the ladies' and seeing our patient draped all over a bloke by the bar. And try to forget the sight of them leaving together.

"Ready?" asks Doctor.

She nods.

I don't want to watch this now. Well, you wouldn't either, if you'd just filled that syringe with water, nothing more, nothing less, like I did. Doctor picks up a particularly blunt-looking drill bit and attatches it to the drill, which he switches on. Her whole body stiffens at the sound of the high-pitched buzz coming closer. Just as my whole body stiffened when I realized who it was our patient was leaving with that night. Gary.

"Now," he murmurs, slowly bringing the drill closer and closer to her face, "Don't worry. It'll all be over in a couple of minutes."

My Gary.

"Ready? Open wide..."

END