Inadvertent Eavesdropper

Have you ever thought about how funny it is at the dentists?

Well, I know, most of the time we're just feeling pretty apprehensive about any work we might have to have done. But beyond that, have you ever thought about what a funny situation we find ourselves in when we're laying semi-comotose under the effects of the gas?

I met my new dentist for the first time last week when I took the whole crew for a 2hr appointment. We were all taken away by separate hygenists to have our teeth suitably prepared before each of us was looked at by the presiding dental physician. It smacked somewhat of a factory production line, but the facilities were polished and immaculate, as were the shiny awards displayed in the waiting room.

In contrast to previous dentists I have known, this American dentist was a quietly spoken man of few words.

" How refreshing," I thought. "He's obviously realised that being a 'people person' is not a major asset when you spend most of your time with your hands inside your patients' mouths!"

Still, it struck me as strange. It was all so business-like in a country that delights in preamble. He informed me quickly and clearly of the situation for each of us and then politely went on his way. He was like a consultant doing his hospital rounds, used to speaking to and being respected by his aids, but with little time for the patients themselves. Neverthless, there was something about him; something about his manner that was reassuring. He had a quiet air of confidence that told you he knew what he was doing.

How was I going to get on though when I had to go back and get my cavities filled? At least I knew he wasn't going to try to engage me in conversation as he chipped away at my bad bits! Why bother with the impossible. It would certainly also save me the embarrassment of trying to grunt a response under the onslaught of water and utensils that invade your mouth in the dental surgery.

They were ready for me when I arrived yesterday. I lay in the leather dental chair watching Whoopi Goldberg on the women's discussion show 'The View' which was displayed on the TV screen opposite me. The subtitles told me they were arguing about politics. Whoopi had cut her hair.

The hygenist placed a mask over my nose and I started to breathe in oxygen. Then they turned on the gas. Whoopi's hair seemed to grow longer as I tried to stay focused on the screen. Did she get extensions during the commercial break? I closed my eyes.

"Kat?" "Kat?" "Are you ok?"

Someone's calling me from a long way away. Concentrate, try to stay focused. I'm tired. I don't want to hang on. Please, let me go to sleep.

"Kat?" "Are you ok?"

Hmmm, they're still calling me. Better try to answer. "Yes, but I think I'm going to pass out."

They reduce the gas. Whoopi's still talking. The dentist walks into my cubicle. He's ready for action. He doesn't speak to me. The hygenist tells me that they are going to start and that they will stop at any time if I raise my left hand. I give her a left-handed thumbs-up to show I've understood.

"Are you ok, then?" she asks.

"Yesth," I reply, smiling, "I'm vewy melloww!"

Frankly, this is the best I've felt for the past few days - totally pain free. It's wonderful!

I'm laying there with my mouth hanging open enjoying my kaleidoscope dream, when their conversation begins. It goes like this:

Dentist: "Did you go to California this weekend, then?"

Hygenist: "Yes, it was great. We went to Disney, stayed at blahblahblah."

"The Dr Seuss books were written there."

"I didn't know."

"Jim Carrey's doing the voice of a character in x,y or z movie."

"Jim Carrey. Wasn't he on Letterman recently?"

"Yes, I saw him too."

"How old is David Letterman"

" About 56/57, I guess"

I know how old David Letterman is! Hey, whoohoo! You up there! It's me. I know! You're wrong, he was 61 two days ago!

The conversation's moved on.

Hygenist: "They drive madly down there."

Dentist: "I know."

"Bikes are terrible. They weave in and out of the traffic."

"They're allowed to, I guess."

" Bikes are a pain to look out for down there. Bike, Kat!......Bite!............Kat, bite!"

What 'bike?' I don't have a bike, well just a mountain bike, but Suzuki, Yamaha, forget it...... oh, bike or bite? Blimey, she's saying bite! She's talking to me!!

I dutifully bite down and grind my teeth so that they can check that their work is precise. Inside, I'm laughing my head off. I thought they were still talking about motor bikes. It seems so funny that I can hear every word they say, but it's as if I'm not there. The last time that happened to me, I was in labour with DD1 and the midwives talked about the stresses of the job as if I didn't exist. I wanted to shout at them, "Hello, remember me? I'm the reason we're all here!"

My psychedelic fantasy is on its final leg now. My mouth is still hanging open attractively, the left side twisting slightly at the corner in merriment. The right side is as numb as a frozen chicken. I would be locked in this grimace for the next 3 hours. I hoped I wouldn't meet anyone on the way home. Perhaps this was not the best time to kill two birds with one stone and go to Costco.

Hygenist: "How's your new car?"

Well, actually I'm still driving every soccer mums dream, the big white minivan. Oh,.... not me.........you're not talking to me.

Dentist: "Wonderful. We took it out at the weekend."

"It's such an unusual car up here."

"Yes, you see more of them in California and Florida. They only made them for 2years, you know."

" Wow, I didn't know that."

"Yes, it's a great vehicle."

"Ok, now Kat, it's time to sit up, but don't get up yet."

They stopped! I don't believe it, they stopped! After all that 'Top Gear' I finally find myself involved in a car conversation and I can't converse! Well, I suppose I'm not really involved am I. I'm not really here. I'm just 'any-old-mouth'; an inadvertent eavesdropper.

The hygenist starts talking to me again. All has gone well. Whoopi has talked herself off the screen above me and all's right with the world. Slowly I return to full consciousness. The right side of my mouth is numb. My head's pounding and still a little muzzy. I'm looking my best!

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I say," relieved to be able to speak again.

"Is there anything you need?

"No," I reply, " but please, I'm desperate to know.................

What type of car does the doctor drive?"