Novacaine was discovered sometime around the turn of the last century, but it hadn't reached the backward interior of Brooklyn during my childhood. As a result, I endured hours of drilling and filling without anaesthetics. It was horrible.
The local dentist was named Dr. Caress. It would have been more appropriate if he had been called Dr. Butcher.
There were no high-speed drills. Dr. Caress used a mechanical drill — a motor attached to a system of small pulleys, if I remember correctly, at the business end of which was some sort of bur. It was slow and awkward and It took forever to drill out a cavity. There was lots of starting and stopping and moaning and readjusting and rinsing and spitting. I can still remember the pain. It was not a "discomfort" kind of pain. It was a torture kind of pain.
All this in the office of Dr. Caress. I can't even imagine what it was like across Ocean Parkway where the local dentist was named Dr. Yankowitz.
More on Dr. Metablog's mouth right here.
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