Terror of the dentist is like an epidemic, one that infects most men.<\/p>\n
When facing the dentist\u2019s chair, even heroes lose their badge of courage. Legs shake, jaws chatter. Any brave soul with more medals than Marshal Zhukov will try to postpone his appointment, explaining that he has an urgent work-related matter to attend to that afternoon; in fact, he has to make a speech. Why don\u2019t we just solve it with a Band-Aid, and \u201cwe\u2019ll see you next week, Doc.\u201d But if next week comes and the pain has by some chance subsided, then the appointment is postponed until next month. Or next year.<\/p>\n
The furniture in a dentist\u2019s office is apparently designed to inspire fear. Nobody has come up with new designs for inspiring confidence and security. It\u2019s probably because their designers are influenced by those alien contraptions we see in Hollywood movies, with those mechanical arms that end in pincers to penetrate the noses, eyes and mouths of their earthling prisoners and extract their brains.<\/p>\n
The chair and the dentist himself, whose face reminds you of a Luis XVI-era executioner, are not the only scary elements in a dentist\u2019s office. Their needles are totally unlike the ones used for a diabetic\u2019s insulin shots, and their pliers are completely different from an electrician\u2019s, even though it would be so easy for them to be the same.<\/p>\n
Tough guys with cavities say they\u2019re not afraid of the dentist. But they can\u2019t stand the screech of the machine against their teeth, because \u201cit makes their hair stand on end.\u201d Others attribute their neglect of oral hygiene to a traumatic event. Such is the case with my friend Reinaldo, whose name I feel obliged to change out of respect for his dignity.<\/p>\n
Reinaldo suffers from mind-numbing toothaches. Two years ago, he braved his fears and decided to end the pain. Commending himself to all of his saints, he set out for the dental clinic in the morning. However, when he boarded the bus, he came across a cure that he believed would assuage even the agonies of hell. He was so impressed that he forgot his troubles.<\/p>\n
One of his fellow passengers was a young woman who looked like one of Wilson the cartoonist\u2019s creations: a graphic depiction of the sculptural beauty of Cuban women.<\/p>\n
\u201cHoly smokes!\u201d he said. But he said it out loud. And with that spontaneous flair that we Cubans have, he went on and dared to say much more.<\/p>\n
The young woman, Cuban through-and-through, was offended. In a word, she told him he was \u201cinsolent and foul-mouthed,\u201d and that \u201cif I were a man I would deck you.\u201d And that\u2019s when another rider jumped into the fray\u2014he was one of those opportunists who pop up anywhere, at any time, just waiting for a chance: \u201cYou just keep being the woman that you are, darlin\u2019; I\u2019ll be the man here.\u201d<\/p>\n
And the brawl was on.<\/p>\n
As the tough guy regretfully watched his \u201cdarlin\u2019\u201d continue on her way aboard the bus, he was marched to the police station, accompanied by the girl\u2019s eloquent admirer (Reinaldo) and two officers of the law who had responded to the bus driver\u2019s call.<\/p>\n
Three hours later, and with a hefty fine for disturbing the peace, Reinaldo finally made it to the clinic, his pain enhanced by a smack to the left side of his face, right where his molar was killing him. He sat down to wait for his turn.<\/p>\n
The voice that announced \u201cnext patient\u201d sounded familiar, but the torment of his ailing tooth kept him from stopping to think about it. When he got to the doorway of the doctor\u2019s office, there was the girl from the bus, dressed in a sparkling white dentist\u2019s coat and looking at him with the same incredulous expression that he was wearing.<\/p>\n
\u201cSit down,\u201d she said dryly and precisely. But Reinaldo didn\u2019t have the guts.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Doctor,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ve got the wrong office.\u201d<\/p>\n
And with that he disappeared down the hallway, straight for the exit.<\/p>\n
Today Reinaldo swears that he conducted himself properly. And he tells the story with a martyr-like conviction that leaves his listeners rolling with laughter. Behind his back, naturally, because Reinaldo\u2019s bad mood from the persistent torture of his blessed tooth is a constant, as is his fear of taking that mortal leap to finally remove the horror of his suffering.<\/p>\n
(By: Julio A. Mart\u00ed)<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Terror of the dentist is like an epidemic, one that infects most men. When facing the dentist\u2019s chair, even heroes lose their badge of courage. Legs shake, jaws chatter. Any brave soul with more medals than Marshal Zhukov will try to postpone his appointment, explaining that he has an urgent work-related matter to attend to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2445,"featured_media":10504,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,53],"tags":[],"ppma_author":[33669],"class_list":["post-10506","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-magazine-articles","category-solar-en"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n