Grin and Bear It

We never know when we’re going to have a spiritual epiphany. It can happen anytime, anywhere. Take last week, for instance. I got one of those Unmistakable Insights while held hostage for two hours in the dentist’s chair.

If that doesn’t make you already go “Ohhhhhh,” add that it was during a root canal.

Oh, that most fun of procedures. It was my first time. I was quaking with fear. Friends warned me. “You’re going to have your mouth torqued open for two hours straight,” they said. “Like a trapped snake.”

Another well-meaning friend advised me to wear an iPod during the procedure. The music would drown out the horrid drill driving down into my root like a jackhammer from hygiene hell. I thought that sounded like a great idea. Since my iPod is on the fritz, the dentist gave me a radio to listen to. I cranked up the rock and roll station, thinking that the Rolling Stones’ bump ‘n grind should do well to compete with the endodontist’s grinding down through my enamel into my pulpy nerve.

I was quaking in fear when the drill bit started to whirr and chip away. I couldn’t feel anything due to the four shots of novocaine. But it didn’t matter. I wanted to go unconscious. I turned up the music louder.

“YOU’RE GOING TO HEAR A POP,” shouted the surgeon, for he knew I was hard of hearing at that point. “THAT’S THE MOMENT WHEN THE DRILL GOES THROUGH YOUR CROWN.”

Good lord, I cringed. That sounds horrid! What the hell does he mean, a pop?! What if he hits my nerve directly, my raw pulpy nerve that is about to be plucked out for all eternity. It’s gonna be like that movie 127 Hours, when he cuts off his own arm and slices through the nerve. I am going to die.

Observing myself, I realized I was visibly shaking and my knees were practically knocking on the reclined chair. The twanging guitars and frenetic vocals on the radio headset were disorienting. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. As the next buzz and drone of the drill made contact with my sick tooth, I carefully reached up and yanked the earbuds out of my ears.

“Something wrong?” asked the dentist behind his mouth mask. He reminded me of some necessary-evil Doctor Death; I’d never before seen a dentist wearing all-black scrubs. I told myself it was because he was a karate black belt healer, not the grim reaper. Besides, I knew I was in the very best hands, being a reputed professor of dentistry at UCSF.

“No, it’s OK. I don’t need the headphones.” I had suddenly realized that it was a million times better to face one’s root canal directly. With the music spinning through my brain, I couldn’t make heads or tails of the procedure. I realized: I NEED TO BE CONSCIOUS in order to understand what is happening.

Without the music, I could hear the surgeon and his nurse communicating back and forth as they passed their tools, filling material and epoxy to each other. “B17,” the doctor would say, and she’d plop another drill bit on my chest for him to use next. “2BCF,” he’d say, and she’d prepare the next layer of sealant. I was sitting there in the middle of my very own Dental Bingo, and my mouth was the playing card. And I felt so much better.

“Very good,” I heard him say every now and again, when he’d bore deeper into my gums. I paid close attention when those pliers came out and he ripped up that root, albeit slowly and gently. Who’d have thought a nerve would be so damned big and mighty?

All the while, I paid attention, and stopped shivering in fear.

Not only was I being healed, the tooth fairies left an added bonus: The truth of AWARENESS. Awareness and attention reduce 99.9% of the agony. It is far better to be conscious, awake, undistracted when facing a painful procedure or even a terrifying life situation. We instantly become more peaceful when we are present to what is happening. Part of us calms down. We are witness, not victim, to the process. No matter how hellish the scenario, everything is instantly more bearable.

And besides, even with those headphones stuffed in your ears, you can still hear the damn drill.