This won't hurt a bit...

I've always been fascinated by the way we learn things. Take the word continuum for instance. There was quite a large time gap between my learning about gravity and coming across the word continuum. But then I read somewhere that we learn in spurts. You've probably noticed. Perhaps it's easier for our brain to take things in in that way.

I can't remember exactly when I first heard of continuums but I know I was a young man in New Zealand then. I can remember the sheer delight, the wonder and excitement that accompanied my grasp of the meaning of the word at that moment. Some of it continues to this day. So, when I heard the phrase we were to write about that night at my writing class (“This won’t hurt a bit”), the continuum effect took over and my mind filled with a myriad of situations to suit the phrase.

I thought of Pontius Pilate and his eternal question: What is truth? Poor chap couldn't handle it. Washed his hands of the whole business, or tried to.

George Washington was different. According to him, you should always tell the truth. It's all very well being told that as a boy but that rule can be taken too far.

I recall a film where an angel comes to earth for some reason. And everywhere she went, she told the truth. It was quite amusing at first, but it wasn't funny by the time the film ended. At a meeting for women, the organiser appeared in a new dress and asked the angel how she looked. The reply given in front of all her friends was devastating: “It would look fine on a person twenty years younger. On you, it makes you look like a common whore.” It left her shattered.

A milder but still cruel form of let-down is used today. The receptionist at the dentist's is a bright young thing who is nicely dressed but can't spell, and chews a lot. The waiting room is quiet, save for a high-pitched sound piercing the air from time to time. You do remember don't you? How calm you were, outwardly, the first time, even you though sensed your own underlying concern when you entered. The room you went into was clean and hygienic. The chair you were led to looked comfortable as the instruments around it sparkled and shined. It was not a good sign when the nurse placed a bib around your neck. Nor when a man wearing a white jacket sidled up to you and murmured, “Open wide. This won't hurt a bit.”

It was the words This won't hurt a bit that deceived you. What followed was sheer hell, for you, the nurse, the dentist, and all the others in the waiting room. You left with the knowledge that the phrase This won't hurt a bit was a damned lie. Ahead of you lay This-won't-hurt-a-bit-injections for tonsils and appendix for starters. For females, childbirth and breast-feeding junior beckoned, soon to sport as fine a set of nippers as you'd see on any TV add made in the USA. Better get used to it buster.

All these things hurt. Damn right they do!

Dennis Crompton © 1995
(first published www.denniscrompton.wordpress.com 2013)