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Password for posting messages: In capital letters enter the 3 initials of the oil company name in San Tome' back in the 50's, 60's, 70's. Hint: The 3 initials were on a round orange sticker on all company vehicles and the first letter is M. |
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| Viewing Page 1 of 1 (Total Posts: 3) |
| Author | Comment |
Charles Prince
 Jun 11, 08 - 10:42 AM |
Dr. Paz DDS
Prologue: To anyone who believes me to be unkind as they read this story, please skip to the last paragraph. I will be visiting the dentist soon. I have two molars that are cracked and dying, one of which has broken in half. And you know what? The thought of having two of my twenty-eight teeth bored down to the root doesn’t faze me in the least. Having four wisdom teeth chiseled and pried from my skull when I was seventeen was a walk in the park. And you know why? I’ll tell you why! Because of Dr. Paz (DDS). Dr. Paz was the dentist in our town. During my years in San Tomé I had innumerable occasions to sit in his waiting room while listening to the whine of the drill. So many opportunities to sit in his chair and listen to his instructions. Dr. Paz didn’t use an anaesthetic. No novocaine, no Oragel, only the softly spoken words, “If it hurts too much, raise your hand”. I had fourteen fillings done by Dr. Paz during my tenure in Venezuela. Each time I felt like I must have left scratches in his ceiling as I stretched my arm high into the air as a sign that it hurt. First came the instructions, then the whine of the drill as he held it off to the side and bent over to peer deep into my open mouth. Then he pulled back as he moved the drill closer. With a final few scratches at the cavity with his pick he would position the bit against his target and turn up the power. At first the only unpleasantness was the odor of enamel being ground away. Soon though, the pressure I felt of the drill bit pressed against my tooth passed into the unforgettable sensation of high velocity metal against raw nerve. My hand would elevate from the armrest in a polite attempt to arouse suspicion as to the possibility of pain. I’m sure Dr. Paz had noticed the gesture, but the faster the procedure went, the sooner it would end. He would inevitably continue on in what I’m sure was his heartfelt desire to eliminate my discomfort as quickly as possible. By this time my forearm had joined my hand in its attempt at communication, but to no avail. The moments passed like minutes. My arm tried to detach itself from my shoulder in an attempt to get high enough to make its point. Only at this point would I be rewarded by the sensation of Dr. Paz beginning to remove the pressure of the bit from against my tooth and the music that was the sound of the drill winding down. I say that I sensed that Dr. Paz was going to give me a breather because by now my eyelids were fused shut and I was about to lose conciseness from trying not to inhale the odor of burnt tooth. He would hand me a tiny paper cup of water and instruct me to “Please sit up, rinse and spit”. I would try to stretch the process out as long as I could, but eventually I would have to lie back in the chair and acquiesce to his request for me to open my mouth once again. The process would repeat itself until Dr. Paz was satisfied that he had removed all of the decay. The time involved in the preparation of the filling material and its insertion into the fresh hole was anticlimactic and gave me a chance to remove my toes from the holes that they had clawed into the soles of my shoes. Soon enough I was released…I mean I got up from the chair and was escorted out to my parents in the waiting room. I repeated the experience about once or twice a year for some ten years. As animated as I tried to present this memory, I want to make sure that you understand that these memories are not negative to me in any way. Dr. Paz was one of the gentlest people I ever knew. Upon moving to the States and experiencing the “marvel” of painless dentistry via a Novocaine injection directly into one on the most sensitive nerves in the human body, I now more fully appreciate the work of Dr. Paz. He also taught me that I could withstand almost anything by using nothing but my own will. I understand that Dr. Paz is still practicing dentistry in Venezuela. To him I wish all the best and my eternal thanks for a job well done. |
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Susan Chipman (Bisch)
Jun 11th, 2008 - 11:15 AM |
Re: Dr. Paz DDS
Hi Charles: Thanks for the laugh. You have a wonderful way with words and love the way you described your dental visits with Dr. Paz. I also had the pleasure of sitting in that dental chair on many occasions. Susan Chipman (Bisch) |
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Tammi Mara
Jul 7th, 2008 - 11:51 AM |
Re: Dr. Paz DDS
LOL...To this day my biggest fear in life is a visit to the dentist office thanks to Dr Paz! Your descriptive memories of Dr Paz are exact to a point! With that said....he received a compliment recently "Whoever did your your initial work did an amazing job".....I looked Dr Karam straight in the eye and said "trust me I paid a heavy price some 35 years ago"! |
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