Virtual reality at the dentist?
As a pain reliever? Instead of numbing agents? Or happy gas?
What sorcery is this?!
Yep. A virtual reality experiment had some surprisingly effective results at the tooth doctor’s office. The claim – that it minimizes pain and anxiety during procedures – seemed to hold up according to the testimonies of the patients themselves. But even more telling was the contraption they were hooked up to. A biofeedback machine measures heart and breathing rate (which go batshit crazy if you’ve just experienced something like, say, dropping your coffee mug right onto the boniest part of your foot at 6 AM). And the numbers seemed to corroborate their claims of painlessness.
So, what gives? Why and how does this work?
Well, the “why” is obvi. Any chemical you introduce can eff you right on up. There was something in SciAm I read not long ago about how the few times I’ve had to undergo anesthesia might’ve permanently screwed me up for life. ‘xplains a lot, though it probably didn’t help that two outta three times, the dude who’s puts me down always looks like he’s getting high on his own supply.
The “how”, however, is that one thing that’s a constant revelation to me. I literally learn this thing every single day like my lesson from 24 hours ago was 50-first-dates’d out of me: that pain is largely psychological. Ah, I hate that. Because it means I can fix it. And if I’m not fixing it and I’m still suffering, it’s totes my fault. Whether it’s from fibro, a herniated disc, or a dentist going all raiders of the oral cavity on you – the brain can be hacked. Can we hack it ourselves? Yeah-bsolutely. But when we can’t even Zen-neutralize the pain of Breaking Bad being canceled, I really don’t expect that we’ll be able to tolerate a drill sans distraction.
The second part of the “how” is the nature of the escape: by retreating into alternate worlds of beaches, mountain trails, and forest sceneries, our brains half-forget the oral horror befalling us back IRL. But it’s not just distraction (like I thought the cause might be). In fact, they even tried movies and stuff on another group – which did very little to induce any sort’ve difference at all, compared to no during-procedure treatment. Rather, the success is found via combination of both distraction and immersion. Kinda like when I watch Orange is the New Black for too long and start creating a food womb over my dinner plate at family gatherings using my arms while menacingly gripping my spoon like a shank for anyone who dare come near.
“False alarm. That was-… that was just me. As you were.”
(To be fair, my brother’s an avocado thief.)
But the combo of these two things seemed to work regardless of the procedure.
Come drill or hosewater, the mouth matrix delivered pain-free peaceful escapism.
You know, we’re really kinda spoiled. It’s one thing to try to avoid real danger-to-my-life kind of pain. But all this coddling my culture’s raised me on has turned me into a pansy and a half. The last time I went to my orthodontist, I couldn’t believe what a little bitch I regressed into. It was literally like I was having an out of body experience, watching a giant vagina recoil in fear of a filing tool. And while that would hurt on actual lady parts, cosmos-god thankfully put my uteral exit at the opposite end of my body without using any of the sensitive leftover dermis for my dentin.
I literally just heard the words “get me a filer” and instantly worm-holed back to age two.
Between pain relieving gases and distractions and the benzos we reach for anytime life gives us anything other than a gold star, our heads are pretty far up our own gas-giving orifices. We’re such pussies. So entitled that it’s driven us to preferring long-term-everyday-for-the-rest-of-your-life-until-you-die-face-down-in-your-TV-dinner kind of pain, versus just spending five minutes feeling it for long enough to fix it.
That’s why when I become a dentist, the first thing I’m going to do – right before I jump off the roof at lunch – is team up with Kubrik and direct my own cinematic-level virtual-reality experience for patients called:
“Shut Up And Open Your Mouth; It Could Be Worse”.
We’re working on the title.
It’s a mouthful.
#zing
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