The Friendly Bogeyman

The dentist's chair is coral pink and just one-half standard size. Similarly scaled are the office furniture and the sinister battery of burrs. Out in the color-splashed anteroom, little patients putter peacefully with toys and coloring books. The tranquil scene: the office of a New York pedodontist, or children's dentist--a member of one of dentistry's fastest-growing specialties. By last week 750 full-time pedodontists were practicing in the U.S., membership in the American Society of Dentistry for Children had risen to 8,000 (v. 1,000 in 1947), and a friendlier bogeyman was fast replacing the awesome drill wielder of the past.

The pedodontist inherited his specialty partly by default: few dentists relish treating children. They are notoriously trying patients, and their small, delicate teeth are hard to work on. But tooth decay -- the most prevalent disease of the civilized world -- is common even in very young children; 50% of all U.S. youngsters have caries by the time they are two.

Mommy Is Quiet. The pedodontist must be one-third dentist, one-third teacher and one-third child psychologist. Explains New York University's Dr. Harold Kane Addelston: "Since we know that practically all children must look forward to being dental patients all of their life time, perhaps the most important single thing we can do for them is to train them to be good dental patients, to accept dentistry with as much grace as it is possible for anyone to do." Children, says Dr. Addelston, are not afraid of pain, vibration or noise. "But they are afraid of what they do not know : strange surroundings, strange people, doctors' uniforms.

Our technique is to remove the fear." The pedodontist's motto is "Tell, show, do," and he resists doing until he has finished telling and showing. The "funny chair" goes up and down "so I can look at your teeth without bending over." The steam cabinet cleans his instruments "just like your mommy washes dishes." Every step of the dental operation is painstakingly demonstrated with pictures or on a giant-sized molar mock-up and is ex plained to the pint-sized patient in a cultivated monotone that is deliberately dry and hypnotic. On his first visit, the child may be permitted to invite his mother into the treatment room as a "visitor," but she must sit in the "silent seat" and may not talk except in answer to the dentist's questions.

Doctor Is Honest. The ideal pedodontist is as honest as Abe and as staunch as Stonewall. He practices no deceptions, and he brooks no foolishness from his troublesome charges. "Children are sensitive lie detectors," says Dr. Addelston. "Trying to fool them leads only to greater distress--a sense of betrayal coupled with pain and disillusionment."

To a frightened, hysterical patient, for example, the poker-faced pedodontist offers no sympathy, only a businesslike proposal: "Today we're going to look at your teeth, and then you're going home." When the unbelieving child opens his mouth to cry, the dentist quickly says, "Good. We saw your teeth. Now go home." Bills for such "behavior orientation" sessions range from $5 to $25, but few parents argue about cost if the child's fear of the dentist is relieved. "Our aim," says Pedodontist Addelston, "is to make the child realize that going to the dentist is a normal, casual, usual, routine experience."

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