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Sunday, August 4, 2013

Fuck My Pediatric Dentist

http://www.123rf.com/photo_15391248_illustration-of-a-smiling-tooth-mascot-character-doing-a-double-thumbs-up.html
Dr. Douche was this dentist my mom would take us to. Pretty sure he was mainly a pediatric dentist because he had kiddy stuff around the room where he would do work on my teeth. I'm thinking about this fucker, because I think he was one of the main reasons why I slowly developed an issue with authority and the abuse of power. Every six months or so my mom would take us to this guy, when we were younger so we could get a cleaning or anything else we needed you know like caps because we rotted our teeth, yes even back then I had a sweet tooth. My mother had brought up me and my sisters our childhood, and one of the things she remembered was the dentist visits she'd take us to every 6 months or so. I nodded at first, then as I flashed back to those times, I remembered him vividly. You see for a pediatric dentist he wasn't very good with kids. Or maybe it was just with me he wasn't very good with. I remember a few times being in his chair, and my mother would be there making sure I wouldn't squirm too much or have a crying fit as he prodded at my teeth with that pointy ass hook, or with a drill.

However when my mom wasn't there, his way of getting me not to squirm so much was by digging his fingers into my arm. And this wasn't simply a gentle press, this was a menacing, "Don't fucken squirm anymore kid, or I'll fucken hurt you,"-dig, meant to keep me in my place. As he did this, his voice would take an edge as he'd say, "You're a big boy." I wasn't sure if he said that because I was a fat or if he was trying to get me to understand that as a big boy I shouldn't be afraid of hooks and drills shoved into my mouth, yet his fingers jammed into my arm, didn't assuage my fears. I would look at him out of the corner of my eye, with my mouth wide as the pain coursed through my arm, I was scared, mainly because he was an adult, and as a good Mexican boy I was taught to respect all adults, they were always right, even motherfuckers like him. I'm guessing he knew this, which made Mexican kids the perfect targets, easy victims, because we wouldn't complain to our parents, because our parents would probably say it was our fault for not staying still or se debe respectar al doctor. There was usually an assistant there with him, and now I wonder if any of his assistants ever noticed. I mean the girl would be sitting on the other side, she had to see something, like the pain and fear in my eyes. But if they did, they'd never say anything.

After the visitation, I'd be given a helium balloon, which I guess was intended to make me happy and forget that that piece of shit had just caused my arm pain, more so than the work he'd done on my teeth. My mom would take us home happily because we'd gotten our dental check up and cleaning. And in her mind Dr. Douche was a very nice man. In my mind I'm thinking "fuck that puto." Sometimes my mom would even ask how are you feeling, and I'd say "bien," not saying anything about how he'd applied excruciating pressure to my arm to make me not squirm & cry. Ain't that about a bitch? Laying back in that chair, it felt as if there was no escape. Face the dental tools or more pain on my arm. And at that moment you feel helpless, and you have no choice because you're a kid. Or better yet a Mexican kid, face him, or face your parents later on.

After relaying this to my mother, she was in shock. But she believed me. I asked her if my sisters had mentioned having had a similar experience on the visitations, she said she couldn't remember, but that she would ask them. Then she asked me why I hadn't mentioned anything back then, and I told her the reasons I just wrote above. The whole Mexican kids must respect adults at all times-thing, plus they'd think we deserved it for disrespecting someone with a titulo such as him. I asked her if he was still practicing dentistry, she said possibly. I didn't bother to look when I was home. If I was vindictive, I'd probably go back there and apply pressure on his arms, you know till there's a loud snapping sound. But better yet, if I practiced law, I'd try to find out if any other kids that continued to be taken to his office had a similar experience to my own, and I'd file a suit against him on behalf of this kids and myself due to the trauma that they experienced. If this were Dexter, Dr. Douche would be a character that would have plastic drapes in his future. Hell he could totally be a character on Dexter, he fits the profile-a person that goes into a profession where he can prey on those weaker than him, so what better profession than pediatric dentist, in a community where the majority are Mexicans who respect those with titles especially such as "Dr." and won't question his methods?

I actually found that he's still practicing dentistry, an this is what his website says about him: "[. . .] this is a doctor who cares and listens [. . .] Dr. Douche has gained the trust and friendship of thousands of children because they know he cares." The sack of shit even volunteers at a dental clinic, probably to traumatize more kids on his spare time when he can't get enough at his own office. I really do wonder how many of the kids that were sitting in the waiting room with me, went through what I did. Or even the ones that are currently being taken to his office presently. In fact I remember when my niece needed dental work done, I felt sorry for her, and at the time I just figured it was because she was a kid and dental visits suck, it can be scary and painful. But now I'm realizing it was that, but it was also that I was hoping she wouldn't be taken to Dr. Douche.

Rage against the pediatric dental machine!

XX
c/s

3 comments:

  1. The temptation to make an appointment and give this guy a taste of his own medicine would be too strong.

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