Thai Dentists

The pain started whilst sitting on a bus traveling through northeast Thailand. Toothache. The mother of all discomforts. I got off the bus and painfully walked into a dental surgery in the dusty Isaan city. I was shown into the operating room at once and, made to sit down on that torture chamber, known commonly as the dentist’s chair. I braced myself for the worst.

The dentist asked “Ben a-ria?”

“Boo-at fan” I responded. My Thai language is appalling. Can’t read any of it, but can speak a ‘nit noy’ – little bit. Having lived here for over five years should be fluent, but, you get lazy sometimes. Ok, all the time.  

“Jep tee nai?” He asked. I knew this question – ‘where does it hurt’ I said “sai keun” meaning vaguely, I thought – the left upper side. I guessed that he would be able to tell from an examination which tooth was the offending molar. I sat back trembling and waited.

So before you can say “mai yahk ja torn” he pulls out a hypodermic needle the size of a bicycle pump, and hits me with the Novocain. It all starts to go numb. I relax a little. He knows what he’s doing.

“Ok.” The dentist seemed to remember some English “I EXRACT” He told me. Hmmmm, I thought, a bit extreme.

But come on boy, this is Thailand!! They know what their doing!!!

Right??

After a few minutes of intense pain, twisting and pulling on a tooth with a pair of pliers, he pulled it out with a horrible cracking sound and displayed the tooth to me. “Your tooth,” he said. It didn’t look to bad. Not black or brown or yellow. I thanked him, paid the bill and left, still numbed up from the Novocain, but trembling nonetheless.

Later that night the toothache came back with a mighty vengeance. At that point it occurred to me that he had pulled out the WRONG TOOTH, a perfectly harmless tooth had been disposed of. Not the sort of thing you can get back. Furiously, I decided to go back into town the following day and have it out with the butcher. Alas common sense prevailed; go see another dentist. No point going back to same dentist. What’s he going to do, sew it back on? Anyway, I didn’t want to get into some old style oriental face game when I explain to him the nature of his malpractice.

Next day I walk into another dentist and am at once stunned by the beauty of the receptionist. Around 18, 19 years old. All legs and a smile that, for a moment, puts the toothache on the back burner. When I explain that I need to be seen straight away she shows me into the operating room. I sit down and wait for the dentist to arrive. The girl walks back in with a white lab coat, rubber gloves, face mask, and brandishing a dentist’s mirror. SHE IS THE DENTIST.

And then it occurred to me. ‘How do you get qualified as a dentist in Thailand?’ – Is it part of a one year course on being a hairdresser: i.e.; shampooing on the Monday, Perms Tuesday, and Wednesday bikini waxing, Thursday Blow drying and mousse application. Then one single afternoon slot on the Friday makes up the dental class. All in all, bit like a city and guilds qualification. Without the qualification.

She didn’t seem old enough to be out of school, let alone operating on people. However, her English was a little better than the first, and I was in intense pain. I was desperate.

“I think it this one?” She said.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” she said “I can TRY to root canal or I can EXRACT. What you want?”

“Which would be better” I asked hoping for the benefit of her seemingly professional experience.

“UP TO YOU” She said.

Now, there are times in this Kingdom where UP TO YOU is a nice response. I’ll let you work out what and where they are for yourselves. But when your health is at stake, sometimes you need a bit of expert advice.

Going to a Thai dentist is a bit like going to the hairdressers. They got the blades, and you got the cutting material. You just got to tell them how you want it done.

“EXTRACT IT” I said.

And with that, she went at that tooth like a Jack Russell chasing a Welsh rabbit through a widened warren on a misty glen. She pushed and she pulled. She huffed and she puffed. My life flashing before my eyes, bar, beach, bus, beer etc. At one point she shouted out to a bored looking transsexual, who was brooding in a back room. She came and stood behind the chair and gripped my head, much the same way a nut cracker clasps a nut on Christmas Eve.

CRACK!!!!!

Eventually it was over and the tooth was out.

Later at home, two teeth missing, I surmised that maybe teeth are like money and sex. They mean nothing until they are taken away. Once you lose them they mean the earth. A massive gap had entered my life, a void. I considered bridge work, a fancy term for false teeth. False teeth before me thirtieth birthday. Things were looking bleak.

Anyway I woke up the next morning, with a strange sensation that slowly manifested itself into a toothache by the afternoon.

I think I’ll just put up with it for a while.