One of my claims to fame is that I have never had a broken bone. (Perhaps it is due to the calcium from all of the home grown milk I have consumed over the years). I do vaguely remember having an X-Ray of my hand or my arm at some point in my childhood, but I don't remember exactly why. I do remember the huge X-Ray machine and the heavy blanket (is it a lead blanket?) that was used to cover me to protect the rest of my body from the harmful rays.
I do remember getting dental X-rays almost every year. Every June Mums would schedule an appointment with the dentist who lived and worked in the neighboring town, and the entire family would load up in the car and travel to visit the dentist. It always took the entire morning, or longer, for him to examine each of the eight sets of teeth and take care of whatever cavities or extractions were necessary. I dreaded the visits to the dentist office that was located on the second floor of an ancient office building. The old wooden stairs creaked as we climbed them, a foreboding sound as I pondered the tortures to come. The high ceilings and linoleum floors accentuated that echoing of a frequently ringing telephone in another office down the hall. It seemed there was never anyone there to answer that phone, and it would ring and ring and ring over and over again.
The waiting room was comfortable enough, filled with magazines and books to read. I remember admiring the glass covered barrister type bookcases filled with important looking books. But eventually my interest would wane, and the seemingly endless waiting for my turn in the chair would continue. But my turn did eventually come, the dentist would poke and prod and clean, and sometimes the x-ray machine would be pulled around to check for the inevitable cavities or to see just where that new tooth or that extra tooth was. Yes, one year I did have an extra tooth erupt from the middle of the roof of my mouth. And no, I did not miss growing any other teeth, except for wisdom teeth. I have never had a wisdom tooth.
The reward after the day of torture? We would usually stop for hamburgers and ice cream before driving back home!
What are your memories of X-rays? Did anyone else out there ever have an X-tra tooth?
No comments:
Post a Comment