“Det var da så mange tenner her”, sa tannlegen, etter at jeg hadde åpnet munnen. Så han dobbelt? Hadde han bare glemt at han hadde latt meg beholde alle visdomstennene, i tillegg til resten av tannsettet som vi normalt er utrustet med? Jeg måtte le, men ble med ett usikker på om han mente at jeg burde fjerne noen. At jeg kom til å få litt hard behandling i dag. Burde jeg bli bekymret?

Tannlegen min heter Vold, så minst én gang i året blir jeg utsatt for tannlegevold. Men det er til mitt eget beste, og ofte er han ganske snill. I gamle dager la de unødvendige fyllinger, etter mottoet “det blir ikke hull i en tann full av amalgam”. Det verserer ulike konspirasjonsteorier om datidens tannleger og noen hevder at de fikk betalt per tann de fylte med amalgam. Jeg mistenker at jeg er en av dem som ble utsatt for slike nådeløse eksperimenter i tennene mine av skoletannleger på 70tallet. Ikke rart jeg fremdeles er en smule skeptisk før tannlegebesøk.

Jeg stålsatte meg i tannlegestolen og forventet beskjeder om hull og boring. Etter at røntgenbilder var sjekket og han hadde gått over alle tennene med skraperen sin, og hektet den fast i mellomrom her og der, fikk jeg dommen: Null hull. For en lettelse!

Men så kom et uventet utspill fra tannlege Vold. “Du drikker sikkert mye heksebrygg, du, for det er en del stygt belegg på baksiden av tennene”. Da ble jeg redd. Hva var det han hadde oppdaget? Jeg spurte om belegget var grønt. Det var det ikke. Det var brunt. Så da var det nok ikke grønn te, men svart te som var synderen.

Mens jeg lå i stolen og fikk voldsbehandling, kom jeg på at i forhold til tilgjengelighet i munnen, foretrekker han sikkert eldre pasienter. Da er jo gjerne huden slappere og mer tøyelig, også rundt munnen, sånn at tannlegen lettere kan komme til med alle sine redskaper. Da lo tannlegen litt, og jeg skimtet nesten tennene hans gjennom munnbindet. Jeg vet ikke hva han så for seg, men jeg fikk et bilde av et leende esel på netthinnen.

I det jeg takket for meg, ønsket vi hverandre god sommer og “håper det blir lenge til vi ses igjen”! Jeg hadde brukt opp dagens tilmålte energiporsjon. Halvparten på å grue meg, andre halvparten på voldsbehandlingen. Grønn te og sofa ventet!

English:

“Wow, you have a lot of teeth”, the dentist said when I opened my mouth. Was he seeing double? Had he forgotten all about letting me keep my wisdom teeth, in addition to the rest of the teeth that people are normally equipped with? I had to laught a little but I was uncertain whether he thought I maybe should get rid of some of them or that this meant that I was in for some rough treatment. Should I get worried?

My dentist’s name is Vold, which can mean Violence in Norwegian. So, at least once a year I’m exposed to dentist violence. It’s for my own benefit, however, and he is usually very kind. Back in time the dentists gave their patients fillings in accordance with the motto “there will never be decay in a tooth filled with amalgam”. There are various conspiracy theories about the contemporary dentists and some claim that they were paid per tooth that they filled up with amalgam. I suspect that I am one of the lucky ones who was exposed to these ruthless experiments in my teeth by dentists in school dentist clinics back in the 70s. No wonder I am still pretty sceptical prior to dentist’s appointments.

I sat down in the dentist’s chair and prepared for what was coming. I expected messages about decay and painful drilling. After checking the X-rays and also a thorough check with the dentist explorer, which sometimes got stuck inbetween my teeth, the dentist gave me the verdict: Zero decay. What a relief!

All of a sudden and quite unexpectedly dentist Violence said “you probably drink a lot of wiches’ brew, as there is a lot of nasty plaque at the back of your teeth”. I got scared. What had he discovered? I asked if the plaque was green. It wasn’t. It was brown. Which meant it was probably not caused by green tea but by black tea.

While I was lying there stuck in the dentist’s chair getting my violent treatment it suddenly came to my mind that with regard to accessibility in the mouth the dentist probably prefers older patients. The skin is usually looser and thus more flexible in older people so that the dentist more easily can access the teeth with all his tools. This made the dentist laugh and I was almost able to see his teeth through the surgical mask. I don’t know what he pictured. I got a picture on my retina of a laughing donkey.

In the end I said thank you and we wished each other a nice summer and “hope we don’t see each other for a long time”. It was early in the day but I had already spent all of today’s portion of energy. Half of it on dreading the visit to the dental clinic, the other half on the violent treatment. Green tea and relaxation on the couch was waiting for me!