Friday, December 17, 2010
The Root Cause
They say all our problems started once we evolved to standing on our own two feet! And then discarding the neem twig to adapt to the modern 360 degree angled toothbrush, with ultra designed bristles, curved handle, cheek and tongue cleaners and the different flavoured mouthwashes. The ‘get close’ has only been with the dentist.
I get one of the best smiles from the dentist. And I must admit he has a good set. It does instill confidence. I remember a visit to a dermatologist who had bad skin, and we discarded the prescription she gave us.
This guy is also suave and sophisticated. Just the right age. Not too young, to make us feel like guinea pigs, nor too old to wonder about the steadiness of his hand. I have been clinic hopping the past few years, and very critical of the guys who peer into my mouth. There are some who do not wear a mask or gloves. I mean if they do not care about their health safety , they probably care even less for ours.
The clinic is neat and clean. Not even the faint sign of dust on his shelves. The spouse is also a dentist. And you have posters of how good teeth should look. This also for me is a plus factor. I hate sitting in the waiting room looking at framed pictures of ugly stained and broken teeth and bleeding gums.
His chairs are comfortable too. If they were not so huge and ugly, they would make ideal ones for home. Adjustable to different levels, the little side tray for small eats and a beverage, the adjustable reading light…. I guess I had time to take it all in after the anaesthesia set in.
I did panic a little though. When he said, lift your left hand if you want me to stop. I have this problem. It takes me a while to figure out left from right. A difficulty I face even while I give directions. I quickly settle that issue and keep my left hand on top.
The dental procedures so far have been painless, marring some slight discomfort. Far different from the visits to the dentists in the past. And they all of course come for a price.
I would have to be taking my younger one when she comes home this month end. Her stay is short. The doctor tells me to bring her in as soon as she comes. She might need repeated visits, he says, you never know. But I say, you must be closed for Christmas. He says ‘no’. But she may be tired the day she arrives. He assures me he is working on Sundays too. Whaaat?
I feel a little sorry for him. I mean he is making money. My contribution to his wealth has been substantial. He must be laughing his way to the bank. But no holidays? I should try and peer into his garage the next time and see if he has a swank new car parked in there.