Friday March 29th, 2024
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Dalia Does…Dentists

Dalia Awad goes deeper than those cavities.

Staff Writer

This week, I was going to write a blog about Egypt and our current situation. I was going to encourage you all to keep going, to keep fighting for what you believe in and not get disillusioned by constant conflict. I was going to write about how, despite all its weaknesses and constant let downs, Egypt was worth it, how the whole was greater than the sum of its parts and how we should try our best to overlook its longstanding flaws and think of the future. But then something terrible happened.

An electric pain took over the left-side of my face that made me sick to my stomach. I felt the colour drain from my face  and my head began to spin. I’d been here before and I knew there was only one solution. Without hesitation, I put on my shoes and headed out the door. I had to go to the dentist.

Now, I’m the first to admit that I could probably win the award for Worst Teeth Ever. I’ve had too many fillings to count, at least two root canals that I can remember and I’m about one dental procedure away from being hooked on painkillers. And not unlike a druggie, I’ve been stuck in a vicious cycle of avoiding the dentist’s chair for as long as I can, then storming into the surgery like a maniac and crying in the waiting room. Due to a series of unfortunate events, I’ve also had to change my dentist frequently so I’ve had the displeasure of being at the mercy of at least 5 dental professionals in the last couple of years. At least they say they’re professionals: anyone who’s had any problems with their teeth will tell you there’s only one thing worse than the all-consuming pain of a toothache and that’s fixing it.

So there I was trying to keep it together in waiting room of yet another new dentist, half urging my body to faint so I can’t feel anything anymore, half wanting to tear my throbbing tooth out with my bare hands and throwing it in the face of the receptionist who refused to take my 100LE note because it was ever-so-slightly torn, when it was finally my turn. It’s a strange feeling getting into that chair; a mixture of gut-wrenching fear, heart-warming relief and a little tingle of hope. But it doesn’t matter what you feel because the dentist is still going to shine a light in your eyes, force you to open your mouth wider than humanly possible, shove a cacophony of barbaric tools down your throat and judge you. And there’s nothing you can do. You can’t move, you can’t speak, you can’t see what’s happening and it’s basically the most uncomfortable, twisted thing that happens in the name of medicine. The worst part? Your torturer’s dentist’s face is mere millimetres away from yours, their hands violate your private space and they see you recoil and squirm in terror, but they never once look you in the eye. Actually, scrap that. The worst part is knowing that for all this pain and all of these emotions, your teeth will never be 100% again. You can fill a cavity, you can cover a crack and you can even replace a whole tooth with a brand new shiny veneer, but you can’t reverse the damage done. Under the caps and crowns of a perfect set of teeth can lurk some pretty ghastly stuff; harsh metal, fragile porcelain, synthetic plastic.

Thirty minutes of torment later, and I’m out of the chair but worse for wear. It was tough. As it turns out, taking a broken filling out is way more brutal than getting one put in. I had to do both. I gave the receptionist a dirty look and stumbled out of the office bruised and bloody. I couldn’t talk or eat or drink. My neck was sore, my throat was dry and I had a terrible taste in my mouth. I sat in my car for a few moments before heading home and examined my lopsided, puffy mouth. The pain that nearly knocked me out was gone. My teeth looked fine. In a few hours, I’d be able to eat again. In fact, I’d enjoy eating more, not having to have to worry if something was too hot or too cold or too hard or too sweet for my ailing teeth. A lot of work has been put into covering up and remedying the problems that caused me so much pain, and though my teeth will never be perfect, I know I can, and will, be smiling tomorrow.

This week, I was going to write a blog about Egypt and our current situation. I was going to encourage you all to keep going, to keep fighting for what you believe in and not get disillusioned by constant conflict. I was going to write about how, despite all its weaknesses and constant let downs, Egypt was worth it, how the whole was greater than the sum of its parts and how we should try our best to overlook its longstanding flaws and think of the future. This might be the toxic combination of anaesthetics, antibiotics and anti-inflammatories talking, but I think I just did.