I was gutted to learn that George Clooney’s devastating smile is replaced every 4 years. His dentition of origin – DOO – is disappointing, to say the least. I’ll show you a pic if I can find it. Nothing is sacred on Google images these days so it should be easy to find.
Anyhow, here I am passing the time in my new Dental Merchant’s waiting room, browsing the brochures. With promises of “North” prices you don’t expect nice glossies to speed read.
Dental care in the UK-owned province of Northern Ireland is much cheaper than here in the separate country of Ireland. Revolting close-ups of faceless bared fangs before and after discreet interventions, “This client didn’t like the way her yellow top teeth splayed over her bottom lip.Now she’s modeling Victoria’s Secret.” No kidding. Confidence and success in one go, not jut for movie stars.
Feeling less than confident I wait, and wait, a long half hour, wondering if the previous patient will emerge toothless, sweating, bloodied dentist in tow.
I pace and read of the perils of fluoride on fertility. Good to see it mainstreaming at last.
The scrub-suited vision escorts me to the inner sanctum of dazzling lights. I don’t see any terror- fueled body fluids on the plastic coated recliner. Sunglasses on, tilted back at 45 degrees, I settle in for the soothing incantation. It’s like the BBC Radio 4 Shipping weather forecast. Instead of the grave cryptic tones, ‘Dogger, Fisher, German Bight …  2010 … falling slowly,’ we’re tuned to the state of my dentition, cloaked in another code.  ‘Front incisors 123, 321, bicuspids intact, occlusal blah, blah.’ And that’s it. I am gone, far far away. The bliss begins.  I drift now, scything through cool clear Aegean waters, blue sky above. Barbecue aromas of freshly caught fish mingle with echoes of laughter and music from my yacht, carried across the rocky cove on a gentle breeze.
The sun goes behind a cloud, but the view gets better!
‘Yer all guid now,’ Â a gentle ‘Norn Iron’ accent informs me. My dentist commutes from the North, so I don’t have to.
Sparkle-toothed and refreshed, I float to reception where my cheque is declined. A busy spot of charming smiles and care. There’s a slight twinge of guilt as I leave without paying. I feel as if I’m doing a runner from the dentist, a first for me, but I’ll be back. Teeth, gums and tongue need their 6-month NCT.
My friends call me the Dental Mentalist. Why wouldn’t I use my well-developed hypnosis skills to make my own dental visits comfortable and delightful? Â I use it for smear tests, leg waxes, the same way I birthed my babies!
Did you know it’s easy to have pain-free dental surgery without general anaesthetic?
Check out www.navandental.ie
