“No, my friend, I am not drunk. I have just been to the dentist, and need not return for another six months! Is it not the most beautiful thought?” – once wrote Agatha Christie. I am not a masochist, ergo, I hate going to the dentists. And I am guessing that the vast majority of you are right behind me.

Who actually wants to be a dentist? Children want to be astronauts, football players or train drivers. I have yet to meet one who dreamed of being a dentist. It’s not that I have anything against dentists, far from it, I just have a plan of avoiding them at all costs. However, there comes a time when you just can’t put if off any longer. That time came last week.

So whilst walking the 630 miles of the South West Coast Path with my wife last year I had a dental situation. We were lucky as far as injuries were concerned. Yes, I twisted my ankle, but about from a couple of blisters we managed to finish that two-month adventure intact.

Oddly the only problem I had was with my teeth. I had picked a fruit from a tree and being hungry greedily bit into it. I wasn’t thinking. And the fruit had a hard pip or seed inside it. I felt a crunch and tasted what felt like a mouth full of sand. One of my front teeth had broken in two. I looked like Bluto from Popeye with a gap between my teeth.

Now out in the wilds of nature I decided to ignore it, but I knew that at some point I’d be on the dentist’s chair.

Romantic trip to the dentist...not really! 

My wife and I tend to do most things together, so as she needed some dental work as well we went together, hand in hand. No, it wasn’t romantic at all.

I think it’s the smell and the sight of all those instruments of torture that kick my brain into self-defence mode. “So who wants to go first?” asked the dentist. I didn’t want to go first or second!

Now, I’m sure that many things are connected to your childhood. As children we had this Scottish dentist, well more of a butcher. I said to my sister “Do you remember that dentist we had as children?” Her answer was one word “Bastard!”

Technology has moved a long way since I was young. And the dentist looked more like a scene from NASA. But then the drill started in my wife’s mouth (yes, I let her go first) and a cold sweat ran down my back. How can they not make a dentist drill that is silent? That ultra-high-pitched screech is like an arrow to the eardrum. Horrifying.

Then it was my turn. I had brushed my teeth three time, flossed for half an hour and gulped half a bottle of mouth wash beforehand, with the vain hope that the dentists would say “Well, everything looks fine here, you can go home.” Instead I heard, “Ah, I can see the problem.” To be honest Stevie Wonder could have seen the hole in my smile.

I had three ladies around me, which normally would have been a bonus, but when they are all looking at a broken tooth and suggesting the next painful steps somewhat loses its charm. “We’ll need to rebuild this one for sure,” smiled the dentist.

Now, as much I hate dentists with a passion I have to give her credit. This combination of Dental Clinic and Cosmetic Treatments was first-class. Possibly seeing the excruciating fear in my eyes she was as gentle as a Dormeo mattress. The drill started. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something relaxing. For some unknown reason cycling around the lakes of Mljet National Park popped into my head. I guess this is my happy place. Understanding the different tools used in dentistry, like those discussed at My DDS Supply, can help patients feel more informed and at ease during dental procedures.

I went to my happy place

I heard the drill in the background but the main sound was the constant chirp of crickets and the gentle whisper of the water washing against the lake edge. It helped. However, I am not sure that it is particularly a good slogan for the Mljet Tourist Board. The whirling continued for what seemed an eternity. But all I could see was the green and blue oasis as I continued my cycle ride.

“There we are all done, as good as new,” smiled the dentist. I just heard all done and leaped like a salmon swimming upriver to lay eggs. I think that I actually left without even looking at what she had done. I felt a strange feeling in my mouth, noticed that I didn’t whistle was speaking anymore and waved goodbye. I didn’t add “see you soon” for a reason. It is a very good job.

So thank you to the dentist and thank you to the other lovely ladies. I now have a Hollywood smile again, although I’m going to call it my Mljet smile. 

Read more Englishman in Dubrovnik…well, if you really want to

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

About the author
Mark Thomas (aka Englez u Dubrovniku) is the editor of The Dubrovnik Times. He was born and educated in the UK and moved to live in Dubrovnik in 1998. He works across a whole range of media, from a daily radio show to TV and in print. Thomas is fluent in Croatian and this column is available in Croatia on the website – Dubrovnik Vjesnik