Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Poor Dentist G man.




Yesterday was his and hers appointments with the lovely G. I had been very brave and made an appointment a couple of weeks ago. The conversation went something like this:

Me : I need to see G
Her : (new to practice and new to me) Is this for a regular reminder visit?
Me : Oh No You don't send that to me, I just ring when I am brave enough.
Her : What do you think is the problem? (obviously trying to ascertain the required time for the       appointment)
Me : I don't know, G just sits me down and gets on with it. I don't want to know.
Her : ( Finally cracking onto the crazy) OK 1.30 Tuesday.
Me : Ok

And then in the mean time Stevie developed some pain in a tooth and got himself into quite the panic about it needing root canal and a crown - not the royal kind, and he needed to see G too.

I willingly offered to let him take my appointment, but he really wanted me to go and so I managed to get him an appointment not long after mine.

Now my inability to cope with all things dentistry has been well documented here, but yesterday was different, cos Stevie was tagging along.

Usually I drive myself, park up, walk aways to the office, sit in deadly silence, concentrate on breathing to the pit of my belly to maintain some normality. Conversation is not possible. But Stevie, possibly a bit nervy himself, was all a chatter and somewhere amid the mounting panic, I told him to fuck off and then I reckon he realised things were not good.

I popped into the chair with no pleasantries, cos that's the was we both like it. The new girl thought this was all a bit odd and a trifle rude.

G went at it like a dentist possessed, cos he knows there is a very definite limited window of opportunity. He did an investigation and a scraping and told me I needed 2 fillings fixed cos of all the grinding going on and he wanted to know if he should do ONE. I think he began to shake a little when I said that we should get 'em BOTH out of the way.

He stuck the needle in and I wiped my eyes after round 1.

Eyes closed and face washing commenced for round 2. Drill noise, and the panic sets in, shaking and crying and a little bit of hyperventilating just for good measure. I reckon G should be on the Aussie Pentathalon team cos if he can hit the target even the moving shaking target, then firing a pistol while a little out of breath aught be no problem at all.

He goes like the bloody clappers. No chit chat, no pleasant requests, he shoves shit in shakes it all about, removes it, I close my mouth, 'OPEN' he commands and eventually I manage to prise apart my lips. Again and again, 'OPEN' and I sniffle and open my mouth, until I am fucking exhausted. God knows how G must feel. If this was a description of something sordid I guess some might find it titillating.

He doesn't tell me what he's doing, cos he knows I don't give a rat's arse what it is so long as it's fast and necessary.

And then he's finished! We all give ourselves a big pat on the back until next time. Seriously if I was him I would tell the receptionist to tell me to fuck off and never to make an appointment for me again.

Stevie was up next and I waited in the surgery with him while G had a look, just in case he was gonna deliver the shit news Stevie was dreading. But it was OK, well not OK that there was pain, but OK cos the rooty toot toot thing was unnecessary. Whew! As soon as I heard that I was outta there, paid the bill and buggered off to the beach, where I sat and calmed down.

There was supposed to be another patient between Stevie and me, but he cancelled. Apparently he used to see G at Tweed Heads, but had moved to Brisbane and rather than find a new dentist in Brisvegas, where there must be bloody millions, he decided to be loyal to G. He thought he'd save  3/4 of an hour's extra drive by coming to the Broadbeach office. Unfortunately he hadn't counted on the severity or number of stairs and was unable to make the climb. All this is ho hum, except that I reckon it gives an indication that when you find a good dentist you should stick to him or her. If I ever move away from the Goldie, I will have to come back to see G cos I just do not want to have to break in anothery.

So we are both a bit sore and sorry for ourselves today. The block injection has obviously worn off and left a dull ache on that side of my face and Stevie is walking around with a tube of Sensodyne Toothpaste which seems to be the adult version of Bonjela. I hope it is working a little magic.

I am fronting up to see G again in October to be fitted for another grinder shield. Mine is about ground through. This is just to make a little mould from alginate. Neither G nor I are nervous about this one. We might even be able to have a normal conversation, who knows, I might even be up to asking him how his holidays went.

I wish G and his wife a wonderful month off - god knows he deserves to leave all this crazy well and truly behind and look with wonder at whatever he beholds, at least I hope that it won't be some sobbing shaking sheila. Good for him!