Dental Encounter

Well today's ramblings have had to take a slightly different course, figuratively speaking.
I looked at the calendar last night and realised I had an early morning dentist appointment.... great. No worries, I thought, I shall simply observe the people in the waiting room, it's always packed with all types. Being one of the few remaining NHS dentists in the country, I always find myself mingling with folk from every corner of the earth. Good old national health service, well it must be good mustn't it? Why else would people from Poland, Lithuania, Iraq, and many other far flung destinations choose to register with the dentist, other than the fact it's free. Oh cynical old me.
I imagine them sitting around a fire or in a little hut somewhere, gabbling together about the weather, when one of them looks at the others teeth as if noticing them for the first time and says, “Blimey, you look like an horse, better set off on the 300 mile trek to England and register with a dentist, it's free there you know”
So imagine my surprise when I walked into the waiting room this morning and it was empty apart from a rather scary looking receptionist. Never mess with a dental receptionist, she has a hot line to the great man himself, your dentist, and between them they have the power to inflict pain.

After booking me in, she handed me a myriad of forms to check and fill in, no, nothing has changed since my last visit be let's fell another part of a rain forest shall we?
Finally I was allowed to take a seat, after using the anti swine flu hand rub naturally. I wondered if I dared to ask her had she used it before handing me the forms? Or had the dentist used it on his many trips in and out of his surgery? But then remembering the little red buzzer that's probably hidden under her desk I thought better of it.
I sat rather nervously, actually I sat waiting more than nervously, I was terrified! I'm not sure what has brought about this fear of the dentist as he is actually a very nice, kind, gentle fellow, not at all like the chap played by Laurence Olivier in Marathon Man (I'm sure Drew will remember his name)
I think it may go back to when I was a very small person, and due to the terrible habit of thumb sucking ended up having to have loads of teeth out, four in one day. That in itself is bad enough but back then in the near dark ages, the dentist used gas to put you to sleep before ripping them out. So, when you came round, still woozy from the gas and a mouth full of gaps and blood you really didn't relish the thought of another visit any time soon. I must say though, that it's a fantastic way to deter your children from ever sucking their thumbs!
So, still waiting and wondering, is this wait time inflicted on those nervous patients on purpose? Does it heighten the experience for the dentist, add a bit of interest to his day? Then he appeared, and beckoned me through, as I have said, he's a very nice gentleman but I'm afraid nice doesn't make the slightest bit of difference when you're shaking from head to toe.
I got on to his chair and he lowered me back so that I was completely at his mercy, the nurse commented on the whiteness of my knuckles, she'll be seeing them a little closer if she wanted. He checked and poked and prodded and told me that all was well and what excellent dental hygiene I practised but was going to give me a quick polish anyway. Please no, not the polish and not that squirty, slurpy thing in the back of my mouth, I hate that more than an oral injection. Is this sounding like soft porn?
Well, I survived, I didn't bite his hand and I didn't throw up when he made me gag. I did cringe slightly though when he said he looked forward to seeing me next time, really? Feeling's not mutual I can assure you. So back to the waiting room to pay. Yes, I'm paying while the odd little people to my right are applying for free dental treatment, but only one of them can speak English and every thing's taking three times as long as they translate.
Ha, I'm hoping that the receptionist is frantically pressing her silent buzzer under the desk, they should be made to pay in some form.