Of how precisely the dentist wields the scalpel
and peels back the layers of gum to expose the bone
allowing him to get to work per the treatment plan
on cleaning and disinfecting the socket and curetting
any periapical pathology I remain blissfully unaware.
I am thank God! numb. But tensed to pain and sense
since first he apologised for the anaesthetic’s unpleasant taste
and sharp shot me seven times that something
has been rooted out not just because the nurse is distorting
me with suction and each deepening gouge
is wincing my head further and further back
up the chair until I cannot resist the desire to swallow
repeatedly
so when I feel him step away I wave a hand
in surrender. No need. It is done. I wipe my eyes again
reshutter them against the two blurred figures and try
not to imagine how according to the plan
he is grafting pig extract into healthy bone
overlaying a collagen membrane then folding back the gum
and insolubly suturing it. Which tickles. I swill
and watch as blood and fragments of tissue? corkscrew
into oblivion.
They discharge me with a gut biome
that will soon succumb to their goody bag of pills
a pageful and an earful of instruction
a face swelling to curiosity
and a lacuna.
Clare Bryden “Lacuna”, British Dental Journal, Volume 238 Number 9, 9 May 2025.
The Version of Record of this Submitted Manuscript is published in British Dental Journal, and is available online at https://doi.org/10.1038/s41415-025-8740-1
Extraction experience inspires poetic reflection. Br Dent J 238, 695 (2025).