A rambunctious beginning to my Friday!
I went to a new dentist this morning with a tooth that needs attention. There’s no pain, no discomfort, but some fixing needed. Since moving to Joburg, I’ve been looking to connect with a new practitioner.
A smiling gentleman ushered me into his chair. Knock knock knock his metal instrument prodded the tooth. “No pain?” he asked. “No,” I said. “Nothing yet, but you’ll have to get a crown on that one, it’s all down hill from here.”
A hot flicker under my skin.
“And have you booked an appointment with the hygienist yet?” “No,” I said. “It’s imperative, you know, before the gums become compromised.” “Look, look,” he said shoving a mirror at me.
I looked. Pressure was building in my chest. This man felt off.
“Has nobody told you that your bite needs attention?” His dark eyes peered at me over steel rimmed spectacles. “You mean orthodontics?” I asked quizzically. “At my age?” “Absolutely,” he said rushing off to grab a skeletal model with perfect rows of teeth. “You see this is how a bite should look… yours though…”
A switch flipped.
I hate this man, I thought. Then I felt the shock of it. How could I hate someone who I’d only just met? A “health-expert-doctor”, to boot. But I did!
I hated his rough-shodding. His imposition, his professional dictates, his bullying! That’s it! Slithering amidst his “professional-expert advice-armour” was harassment and fleecing. In his white room, I was captive.
When the end came, I rushed out and away. What else to do?