No Laughing Matter

As morning changed to afternoon the clouds changed from gray to white. The day also changed from rainy to sunny.
Anton had been enjoying his day so far. It could mistakenly be called the best of times. Unfortunately, the afternoon brought what might be the worst of times for Anton if it weren’t for Doctor Poirier.
It all began when Anton drank from his glass of cold milk. His mother had finished making her chocolate truffles, which were soft and earthy on the inside were hard and sugary on the outside.
“I love your truffles. I could eat them all day.”
“You’ve got quite the sweet tooth,” she replied.
Madame Marchant fetched a pitcher of milk from the kitchen. When she did, Anton cracked a tooth on the truffle’s hard chocolate shell. He took a drink of the cold milk, hoping to soothe the pain. Unfortunately, it only made things worse.
“Owww!” he exclaimed.
“What’s wrong, dear?”
“My tooth hurts!”
Uncle Rupert leaned over towards Anton, poking his fingers into his mouth.
“Looks like you’re losing a baby tooth.”
He poked the tooth with his finger. Anton winced in pain.
“Let me get it!”
He rocked the tooth back and forth, trying to pull it out.
“Maybe I should try pulling it out with a pair of pliers.”
“No!”
“Or we can tie a string to it and jerk it out.”
“No!”
Anton took charge of his own tooth, pulling as hard as he could. After a few tugs, he quit. The tooth hung awkwardly in his mouth.
“It hurts to pull it.”
“Let me try again.”.
Anton quickly dodged out of hils way.
“Mom, can we go to the dentist instead?” said Anton.
“Let me give Dr. Poirier a call.”
Dr. Poirier’s assistant answered the phone.
“Luckily,” she said, “we have some cancelled appointments. If you come right now, Dr. Poirier can see you.”
Anton and his mother rushed to the dentist. Dr. Poirier greeted Anton at the door.
“Bonjour! Let’s take a look and see what we can do.”
Anton followed Dr. Poirier into an exam room. Dr. Poitier eased the chair into position.
As Anton sat down, he looked around the room. There were tools of all shapes and sizes. There were metal picks and hooks, and pliers, too. Dr. Poirier picked up a dental tool and held it in his hand. It had a long hook with a sharp point. He used it to examine Anton’s teeth.
“Urrgh!” exclaimed Anton.
“Don’t worry, this should be over in just a moment.”
With a gentle pull, the baby tooth popped loose. Dr. Poirier held it up to the light. It looked like a tiny yellow pebble.
“There you go,” he said, “good as new.”
“What was that string holding the tooth in there?”
“It was your root.”
“It was too tiny to be a root.”
“Roots from baby teeth dissolve. Sometimes they don’t dissolve fast enough, so the tooth doesn’t come out right away.”
Anton stuck his own finger where the baby tooth had been. As he poked at the tooth beneath, it caused great pain.
“That shouldn’t hurt,” said Dr. Poirier.
Then, he investigated Anton’s mouth again.
“I think I’ve found the real problem.”
When Dr. Poirier tapped Anton’s teeth with the handle of his dental tool, Anton jumped in pain.
“I think you have a cavity.”
“Can you pull that tooth, too?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. This one is permanent.”
“But it hurts,” moaned Anton.
“There was a time when dentists just yanked every tooth out of your head, as recently as 300 years ago.”
“What happened?”
“A man named Pierre Fauchard happened. He was a doctor in the French Royal Navy who became known as ‘the father of dentistry’. He invented fillings. Do you have time for a filling? It’s the best thing you can do for your mouth. Once you lose a permanent tooth, it’s gone forever.”
Anton nodded.
“Let’s get started with some nitrous oxide.”
A look of horror came over Anton’s face.
“Don’t’ worry, it’s just laughing gas, just like good Dr. Fauchard named it long ago. It is absolutely harmless.”
Dr. Poirier fit the mask over Anton’s nose. In just a few seconds, Anton fell asleep. When he did, Dr. Poirier went to work. He drilled into the tooth, removing every bit of decay. It was just as Dr. Fauchard had done in 1716, when he was writing his book, “Le Chirurgien Dentiste” (The Surgeon Dentist).
Before his work, dentists just pried teeth out of people’s mouths. They did not use mouth-numbing drugs like Novocaine or Laughing Gas. They even used dangerous chemicals like sulfuric acid to treat tooth decay, which is the same acid that can burn through hardened steel and dissolve human skin.
When Anton woke, his tooth was repaired. When he poked his finger into his mouth again, it did not hurt.
“I noticed a lot of possible problems in your mouth,” said Dr. Poirier, “Do you eat lots of sweets?”
Anton nodded shamefully.
“That’s okay. What child doesn’t? I just suggest that you either cut down on your sugar or brush and floss immediately afterwards.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s start you off on the right track.”
Dr. Poirier picked a fresh orange from the basket sitting on his desk.
“Even fruit has sugar, but natural sugar is much better than refined sugars, like those in chocolate. Also, it keeps you from looking like a pirate. Have you ever seen a pirate with beautiful teeth?”
Anton shook his head.
“That’s right, because pirates don’t eat fruit. Fruit has Vitamin C. If you don’t get your Vitamin C, your teeth might fall out.”
“Oh quit scaring him,” said Dr. Poirier’s assistant, Marguerite.
“Is that something else Dr. Fauchard discovered?” asked Anton.
“It was one of his revolutionary discoveries. He studied old and decaying teeth under a brand new invention called the microscope. He saw bacteria on the teeth.”
“Eww! That’s gross!”
“It’s a lot less gross than what dentists thought before the 18th century. They said tooth decay was caused by tooth worms.”
“What would make them think that?”
“Before then, people believed many superstitions. There were no rules for dentistry. Now that I think of it, Dr. Fauchard even invented the first set of braces, too.”
“It sounds like he was pretty amazing,” said Anton.
“He was the reason you still have that tooth. You can thank him when you eat your orange.”
Anton nodded and then he and his mother were on their way back home. However, Anton did not have to wait long to enjoy his snack. As soon as they got home, his mother peeled it and took a wedge for herself. Anton ate the rest.
“Let me see your tooth,” said Uncle Rupert.
Anton showed the new filling to his Uncle.
“It looks like you’re building quite a set of teeth. Soon, you’ll no longer have your baby teeth and you’ll be a big kid.”
“I am a big kid.”
“I know you are, but you keep growing every single day.”
“But I’m not too old to play dominoes.”
“That’s good,” said Uncle Rupert, who began scattering the tiles face down.
“Can we play dominoes my way?”
“You mean set them up to make a domino chain?”
Anton nodded.
“I suppose that’s fine.”
Anton and his Uncle carefully stood the dominoes on one end, forming a maze on the card table. When they used every domino available, Anton had the honors of knocking over the first domino. The tiles chattered as they fell, one-by-one.
When every domino fell, Anton and his Uncle started over again, playing Uncle Rupert’s version of dominoes. It did not matter which version they played. Uncle Rupert and Anton were having a perfect time. After all, it was the best of times, thanks to the work of two good doctors.