MUSIC IN THE DENTISTS CHAIR

Press, Volume C, Issue 29500, 29 April 1961, Page 8

MUSIC IN THE DENTISTS CHAIR

The patient holds a small control box in his hands. At a flick comes the distracting noise of a rock ‘n’ roll tune. Another push at the button and the sound from a nearby loudspeaker changes to the caressing notes of a violin playing a Beethoven sonata. A third button releases the music of the sea on a shingled beach heard against a background of the soft strumming of a Hawaiian guitar. This is the sort of service more and more dentists are offering their patients. And music therapy in the surgery chair is symbolic of the quiet revolution that 1 has been taking place in dentistry over the past few years. The modern practitioner is doing everything in his power to banish for ever, the conception of the dental surgery as a place not far removed from the torture chamber. The old, awesome room full of frightening-looking equipment, with an ugly red gas balloon lurking menacingly in the comer, is on the way out.

In its place is the bright cosy salon. The whole point of it is to induce a sense of confidence and relaxation. Calming Fears Many dentists today have made deep study of patient psychology, and have a steady stream of calming patter at the ready for nervous patients.

But equally important is the fact that experiments have shown that certain kinds of music can do much to soothe the apprehensive. Tests have shown that, by having the patient’s attention diverted to music the whine of the drill can lose its terrors.

By using special tape recording techniques, dentists are also playing back talks, short stories, and extracts from plays to keep patients’ minds occupied. One piece of equipment

just on the market enables the patient to choose between hearing the sound of the sea and a musical selection. He can also increase or decrease the volume of sound —or cut it out entirely. One Stockholm dentist, Dr, Sven Tholander, swears by a machine which produces “white noises”—a splashing roar like the sound of a waterfall. Large, padded headphones are worn and connected to the machine. Bad Old Days

“Patients give all their attention to the sound they hear through the headphones, and quite forget the reason they are in the chair," declares Dr. Tholander.

But despite such measures, the image of the dentist as a bogyman still dies hard, especially with children. Many dentists blame the bad old days as the reason why some parents are still reluctant to order their children to the dental surgery.

They remember hours of misery they themselves spent in the surgery chair as children. Privately, they feel that dentures may be the most comfortable way out in the end.

. To dentists who encounter it, this attitude is a tragedy. They know that tooth decay —the most prevalent disease in the Western world—must be tackled from the day the first milk tooth is cut. Shocked by current statistics, dentists in the United States—where 50 per cent, of all toddlers show tooth decay by the age of twohave formed a specialist society for the treatment of children. Children’s Dentists

The result is that 750 pedodontists—children's dentists —are now in full-time practice in the country. The idea is also catching on in

other English-speaking countries, and in Europe. In a typical pedodontal practice, the chair is coral pink and just half standard size. Similarly scaled are the office furniture and the sinister battery of drills. Out in a colour-splashed waiting room, little patients play peacefully with toys and crayon books. Inside the surgery, proceedings are explained to children step by step. The see-saw chair goes up and down—“so that I can look at your teeth without bending over.” The steam cabinet cleans the instruments "just like mummy does clothes in the washing machine.”

Every stage of the dental operation is painstakingly demonstrated to the older children with pictures. The lecture is ideally delivered in a cultivated monotone that Is delibrately dry and hypnotic.

To the frightened, hysterical patient, the pedodontist offers no sympathy, only a businesslike proposition: "Today we're going to look at your teeth, and then you are going home.” As the unbelieving child opens his mouth to cry. the dentist quickly says: “Good, we’ve seen your teeth. Now go home.” Such “behaviour orientation” can prove expensive. An average course might cost £5 in private practice, with not a tooth improved. But many parents are finding it is money well spent. Children, says Dr. H. Addelstone, of New York University, are not afraid of pain, vibration or noise. “But they are afraid of what they do not know: strange surroundings, strange people, doctors’ uniforms. The art of being a pedodontist is to remove the fear.”—(Central Press. All Rights Reserved.)