Sunshine, like the tidal wave of a wild, ethereal river that had burst its banks, flooded through the tall, arched, double winged windows of the Conservation Department of the Dental Clinic. It filled the large hall to the brim with shimmering brightness, breaking up, bouncing off and sending myriad of shining sparkles, reflecting off the copious chrome finish of the dental units, standing to attention in three dense rows on the tiled floor. Outside the whiff of gentle, mild Spring filled the City’s air, whilst inside the department, crammed with dental units, was filled with perspiring students busy leaning over even more perspiring patients, under the watchful, eagle eyes of senior supervisory dental staff.

It was around eleven o’clock and I was busy drilling away at a molar of a rather large voluptuous female, having had a duel with her flabby cheeks, whilst almost drowning in her voluminous saliva and thinking fondly how I would have liked using sand-bags instead of flimsy cotton wool rolls to stem the tide running down her flabby double chins. I was not making good progress at all preparing the cavity, whilst fighting off - bravely and with great determination - a sense of vertigo that threatened to pull me right down into her seemingly bottomless cleavage.

I was thinking what excuse could I dream up to walk away from the arduous task, or at least under what pretext could I have a few minutes of break, when one of the junior dental assistants walked up to me and gestured to me to stop. I thought that my sigh of relief could send the well built patient gliding right across the department, so after having muttered a brief, polite apology to her, I held my breath as I stepped aside to listen to what wisdom the assistant might be intending to impart to my attentive ears.

                - ‘There is an elderly gentlemen down at admission demanding to see you.’ - she whispered to me. 

                - ‘Who is he and what does he want?’    

                - ‘I don’t know who he is, but I know that he wants to have a tooth extracted and insists that you should do it. You better go down right away, Professor Szokoloczy instructed me to send you down without delay.’

                - ‘But I have this mountain of a woman here in my chair with saliva dribbling down her cheeks and with an unfinished cavity...’ - I whispered back at her.

                - ‘ The mountain can wait, you can climb her later’ - she winked at me with a low whisper and with the cryptic, all knowing smile of an accomplice - ‘or better still I get one of the demonstrators to ascend the heap and fill her cavity. Or would you rather?....’

                - ‘No, thank you.’ - I winked back at her gratefully - ‘If I fall down that canyon, I fear I shall never surface again, as for filling her cavity, I am not big enough for that job anyway, but I’d be delighted to attend to yours later...’

She threw a small empty cardboard box at me and waved me on with a broad, cheeky, conspiratorial smile on her face.

She was an attractive young woman. According to Gábor, the deaf, chief dental technician at the Clinic, she missed her vocation. She should have become a professional virgin, but somehow never quite made it... As rumor had it she lived in a convent in her early youth, but while her fellow nuns were singing the Panis Angelicus, her mind was fixated on the Penis Angelicus... so eventually she discarded her black habit and exchanged it for some dirty ones...at least that was the gist of the tall story that Gábor the deaf, chief dental technician was frequently bragging about. And he should have known it... after all he confessed often enough to having indulged himself in some dirty habits too. The way he related his tall and somewhat seedy stories about this young lady, with his face transfigured into that of an early Christian Martyr on his way to sainthood, experiencing heavenly ecstasies, one could conclude that either he knew her intimately well - which seemed more than unlikely to us, the students - or, which is more than likely, he would have loved to know her intimately well... Lets face it who wouldn’t have?... She was positively an attractive young woman... and even if a third of the stories related to us by Gábor, the deaf technician, had any base in reality, then she was definitely hot stuff... Filling her cavity rather than the heap’s in the chair on who’s flabby double chins the saliva was now cascading like a wild torrent towards that deep, bottomless canyon, which earlier on threatened to swallow me up, would have been far more preferable than... Oh well!.. I threw a long, sly side-glance towards the slender, well shaped ankles of the young assistant and then with a deep sigh I dashed out of the department. As I was descending the stairway, taking two steps at a time, I was wandering who might the person be demanding my attention. After all I was only a third year student and not best known in well-informed circles as the wizard of painless tooth pulling. I entered the admission room in the emergency department, stopped just by the door after shutting it behind me and looked around questioningly. The dental chair was empty, with the senior surgery assistant standing nearby it, whilst Professor Szokoloczy was busy looking at a dental radiograph clipped to the brightly illuminated X-ray viewer hanging on the wall opposite the door.

I coughed softly and politely to attract his attention, but he took no notice.

                - ‘Khm... khm.. ‘- I cleared my throat in another attempt to get his attention - ‘Good morning Sir Professor.’

He finally turned on his heel to face me and greeted me with a soft smile.

                -’ Peter, you rock... we have an interesting case here, that seems to demand your undivided attention. There is a charming elderly gentleman in the waiting room, who seems to believe that you are better qualified than I am to deal with his toothache. Not only that, but he insist of having that tooth out and having it out by you and you alone. He very kindly consented me examining him and taking a radiograph, but he flatly refused to have anything else to do with me, or anyone else for that matter. I have no idea who the gentleman is, but he seems to have unshakeable, if somewhat misdirected faith in your ability. I must confess, I am somewhat curious to find out what gives him this overpowering faith in you and where did he hear of you. Further more, I find it somewhat disturbing, that I cannot find anything wrong either clinically or radiographically with the tooth he is complaining about, or indeed with any of his remaining dentition... Perhaps you can solve the puzzle?’ - and he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

I listened to him with mounting embarrassment and apprehension. I could not think of anyone who would be foolish enough to choose me, a humble student, for extracting his tooth in preference over a well known, highly respected Professor of Oral Surgery. What kind of fool could that person be, or was this just some kind of silly joke?

                - ‘What is the name of the patient Sir Professor? - I asked, trying to appear calm and collected.

                - ‘Ah, good question! Could you please hand me the patient’s record, Agnes?’ - he turned to the assistant.

She handed him the records.

                - ‘The gentleman’s name is Miksa Pollák, born on the 8th of August in 1871. Do you know him by any chance?’

The room seemed to have turned with me; I felt like wanting to disappear through the floor.

                -’Do I know him, Sir Professor?’ - I answered trying to hide my embarrassment - ‘I should say so... the old rascal is my grandfather. I do apologize Sir; he is an incorrigible old rogue. I don’t really think that I should see him.

                - ‘What?’ - he looked over his gold framed spectacle at me with a puzzled, incredulous and slightly amused smile on his face - ‘Now that’s a turn out for the books. Your grandfather...hm... Interesting... Very interesting. Well, if he has that kind of faith in you, than you absolutely cannot refuse to see him. No way.... Call him in Agnes... well I never...‘ - and he shook his head appreciatively.

                - ‘But Sir...’ - I tried to protest. In vain.

The door opened and Agnes was busy escorting my old man to the chair. He nodded his head at me in a brief and smileless recognition, whilst I stood there with flushed cheeks. Good God... what was he up to now?...

The professor waved me on to attend to the old man’s needs. There was no escape.

                - ‘Hello grandpa. What’s up? What are you doing here?

                - ‘Toothache. That’s what’s up... and I want you to take that tooth out... now...’ - he grunted at me. - ‘I’ve been up all night with it. I’ve had enough.’

                - ‘Why did you not say anything about it this morning?’

                - ‘Cause I thought it will stop after my morning schnapps. But it didn’t. Are we going to talk about it or are you going to take it out?

                - ‘All right... just tell me which one and let me have a look first...’

                - ‘I already told him which one and he already had a look. He even took an X-ray’ - he pointed at the professor’s direction - ‘and he said there was nothing wrong with the tooth. What does he know? Does he have the toothache or do I? That’s the tooth’ - and he poked at a lower premolar on his left side with his finger - ‘now get on with it...’

                - ‘Grandpa, Professor Szokoloczy is a very experienced, highly respected professor of oral surgery. Don’t you think he knows what he is talking about? I am just a student here and...’

                - ‘ I don’t care if he is God Almighty,’ - the old man interrupted me - ‘I have the toothache, he doesn’t. Professor or no professor he does not know everything and I do know what hurts me. Now, are you going to take this bloody tooth out or not? I don’t have all day to sit here and just talk about it. I want this tooth out and finished and done with... so get going...’

I looked at the professor beseechingly, hoping for his helpful intervention. He stood a few steps behind the chair, with a broad smile on his face, looking highly amused. He did not volunteer to get me out of my misery.

Agnes, standing by the chair, slightly behind the old man was quietly shaking with laughter, also very highly amused by my predicament.

                - ‘Let me just have a quick look at your X-ray’ - I turned to Grandpa - ‘I must check it myself to see if there could be any problem with the extraction, so that I can be prepared for it.’

In truth, I was playing for time. I desperately wanted to talk to Professor Szokoloczy, trying to find a way out of dealing with the old man. The professor - like a man able to read my mind - beaconed to follow him to the furthest recess of the room behind the chair.

                - ‘Peter, you rock, this is the hour to show your mettle.’ - he addressed me in a low whisper and with a broad, amused smile all over his face - ‘I am afraid, there is no way you can get out of this without loosing face, not only with your dear old man, but to top it all, with me also. You have a real life situation here, now deal with it. You have but two choices. Talk him out of having that tooth out and good luck if you think you can succeed, or extract. My bet is that you’ll end up extracting that tooth. You have a hell of a grandfather sitting in that chair. Now go to him and good luck.’

                - ‘But Sir, you yourself said that there is nothing wrong with that tooth...’ - I tried in a last ditch effort.

                - ‘Certainly’  - he nodded - ‘now go and prove that there is nothing wrong with you either. You are The Doctor here and now. This is your moment.’

With that he nudged me towards the chair.

                - ‘All right grandpa’ - I addressed him reluctantly - ‘I checked the X-ray, now let me have a quick look at the tooth. Which one is hurting? Can you put your finger on it?’

                - ‘That’s the one.’ - he poked at the lower left second premolar. - ‘I already told you so. Is something wrong with your memory? And I want no fillings or any hocus-pocus, I want that tooth out.’

                - “Are you sure about this?...” - I ventured in the last hope that he might change his mind.

I should have known better... He looked back at me with an expression on his face that was full of questions about my sanity...

                - “All right then...” - I sighed - “I’ll give you an injection.” - and I turned to load the syringe.

                - “What bloomin’ injection? I want none of that! Just take the tooth out!” - he grunted.

                - “But grandpa, I don’t want to hurt you and...”

                - “So, don’t hurt me then, just take the bloody tooth out without hurting me... and without an injection. If the teaching is good here and if you listened, then you should have no problem and I should have no pain”...

I could not fault his logic, mainly because I knew that arguing with him would be futile... on the other hand I was not going to stick my neck out trying to remove a firm, well rooted tooth without some form of anesthetic.... Yes but how? what now?... Hitting him on the head with a surgical mallet seemed a perfectly sound proposition to me at that moment, although I knew that it would not go down too well either with him or the professor who was quietly choking in the background trying to stifle a loud burst of laughter.

I looked at the professor with silently pleading eyes for help. With a quiet gesture of his head and hands he pointed my attention towards a bottle of freshly distilled Novocain standing on the instrument table. My savior...

I quickly figured that if I could manage to distract the old man’s attention and dabbed a generous amount of the Novocain on his mucous membrane, then I might be able to sneak in a local anesthetic without him being aware of what’s happening. I could worry about explaining the numbness later...

                - “Grandpa, I am going to rub something on your gum, just to make sure that you won’t feel anything. It will make your lip and tongue go numb, but don’t worry about it, it will wear off.”

With that I proceeded with my plan and to my comfort managed to sneak an injection in surreptitiously. My old man did not bat an eyelid. A few minutes later an uneventful extraction followed, to my great relief...

I gave him the usual post operative instruction about no smoking, no alcohol, etc., knowing damned well that it would fall on deaf ears. The expression in his eyes, questioning my sanity yet again, was proof enough that he absorbed every word I uttered, without the slightest intention of following any advice.

He then left with just his usual morose nod of his head and I could sigh with relief.

                - “Well, Peter... that was an interesting and highly educational experience.” - the professor beamed towards me. - “Your grandfather is quite a character. There was nothing wrong with that tooth, I am absolutely convinced of that and my hunch is that he came here to test you. Now, I will be generous and as far as I am concerned you did well. I would, however, be very interested to know how he judged you... but neither of us may ever know that...”

With that I was dismissed, free to go back to find out what happened to my voluptuous lady patient, with saliva dribbling down her double chins cascading towards the deep chasm of her cleavage...

She was still sitting in the same chair... the saliva was not cascading; her mouth was free of the saliva ejector and firmly engaged in rapid speech movements. She was sitting there waiting for me...

The attractive junior surgery assistant, who missed her vocation not becoming a virgin by focusing her attention on the Penis Angelicus instead of the Panis Angelicus, was standing casually by the chair chatting to her. Whether they were having a discourse on Bocaccio’s Decameron or on the Kama Sutra, was never revealed to me, but the short burst of feminine giggles and revealing side glances exchanged between the two of them was a very clear indication that they were not discussing the martyrdom of Saint Catherine either.

When I finally reached the chair, the junior assistant cheerfully revealed to me that my voluptuous lady patient flatly refused to have her cavity prepared and filled by anyone else. It was obviously my lucky day...

Up to this very day, there is no reliable record about the martyrdom of Saint Peter, first suffering extreme stresses by a grumpy old man determined to lose a perfectly healthy tooth... and then having been tempted, tortured and swallowed up by a voluptuous, double chinned mountain of a woman, in the process of having her cavity filled... so let us leave the records incomplete regarding the martyrdom of the aforementioned Saint... Let us instead put on the record that a third year dental student had a real tough time on that otherwise inauspicious sunny spring day...

When I finally got home, exhausted by the day’s events, Grandfather was sitting in his chair in his room, invisible, wrapped and well hidden by the thick blanket of cigar smoke filling his tiny room and slurping his usual portion of apricot brandy... purely for medicinal purposes of course... As I opened the door and window in order to let the smog lift, so that I could find him, he grunted at me, finished his brandy, puffed some cigar smoke into my face and refused to utter a single word in reply to my question of

                - “How are you granddad? Is everything all right?...”

But then... he never was a man of many words...

It was several weeks later that I heard from a variety of people in the neighborhood and beyond that the old man had been busy going round town, proudly telling all and sundry, what a marvelous dentist his grandson was, who extracted his aching tooth that his professor refused to touch and all that without an injection and without causing him the slightest bit of discomfort or pain...

Martyrdom?... instant sainthood more likely....

© P. J. Oszmann