NHS Dentistry Toothless

I still remember vividly the frightening trips I was forced to make to the school dentist every year.   In fact I am sure I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to this day.    I wonder if I could sue the NHS, or Hereford Road School ?    I must have a word with one of those no-win no-fee lawyers.

Every six months or so a little green ambulance would arrive at the car park opposite the police station first thing in the morning.   Unmarked so that poor unsuspecting children would not realise the tortures they were about to encounter.      I think the proximity to the police station was to deter people from escaping the treatment.      Once inside there was no getting out, you were strapped into a chair.    The dentist modelled himself on Dr. Josef Mengele, with a blinding lamp fixed to his head.    All I can ever recall him saying was “open wide” and then he tried to suffocate me with a mask and some smelly stuff called chloroform.    The next thing I knew was waking up with blood in my mouth and a hole where a perfectly good tooth used to be.

Is it any wonder that I grew up not liking dentists !

In my secondary school most of my teeth survived except for a few involuntary extractions during my reckless pursuit of a rugby ball. Then when I arrived at Sheffield University, my final dental comeuppance came when after weeks of toothache I finally went to see the doctor with a mouth full of ulcers.    I was given some antibiotics and a sealed letter to take to the university teaching hospital in a weeks time.

A week later the ulcers had gone but not the tooth ache, so I reluctantly turned up at the hospital.   I handed my appointment letter to the receptionist who opened it, smiled and sent me the sixth floor.  A much nicer welcome than the school dentist I thought.     I was surprised when I got out of the lift to find my self surrounded by teddy bears and lots of toy peddle cars.    All the patients were no more than 10 years old and they all had there mummy’s with them.    When my name was called I went into a consulting room to be greeted by another Dr. Mengele and a worshipping hoard of dental students, including a rugby playing mate called Miles, who I had accidentally hit in training only the week before.   Dr .  Mengele read out my letter to them all and they all smiled.     I  had been sent to Pedodontistry (children’s dentistry) because of my “ pathological fear of dentists”.   Very funny.    Miles was only too pleased to ‘help’ with the necessary extraction.

It was 25 years before I visited a dentist again !

This entry was posted in N.H.S., SMILES. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to NHS Dentistry Toothless

  1. David Freeman says:

    Good morning and a very merry Christmas wishes to you and yours! Gummy? Or is it the toothless fairy?. It is not the men in blue who are escorting you but the 3 quacks, and the men in white coats! Great read, many a memory revisited. Concerning my school boy years, and the west riding educational authority with its regular holiday period visits of:
    The nit nurse
    The injection team, measles, chicken pox, small pox, polio, and some injection that had a 3 letter acronym, diphtheria,
    What with being stabbed, and then by the dentist with cocaine to do toothy peg gymnastics, I believe we were not the battle field of diseases but the guinea pigs of learning to both ourselves and the health professionals.
    Roar on mcduff 2018 has mountains to climb, and many a breast to sooth? Xx for you and your thoughts excellent duckie!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s