Fleeing My Dentist
Last week I realized that I had a cavity in my «Wisdom» tooth, but it didn't hurt so I ignored it for a few days; consequently, the hole in my tooth grew larger and so did my fear of visiting my dentist Dr. Bernstein. I felt like an absolute child having been reminded by Dr. Bernstein several times «You missed your last checkup;» nevertheless, I had no reply as the fate of my mouth rest in his shaking hands at that particular moment. When he was finally done with his lecture, and the relentless prodding of my mouth with various instruments I thought to myself «Why doesn't anyone I know come here?» Profoundly it was this question that I imposed upon myself which pointed me in the direction to seeking a new dentist. I am going to search for a dentist who cares about me, and my feelings instead of someone who is only concerned about speed and the almighty dollar. I am absolutely fed-up and tired with the ridiculous long waiting time, sheer physical pain, and prolonged mental abuse by Dr. Bernstein and his staff.
I have outgrown my patience for sitting in Dr. Bernstein's lobby for forty-five minutes to an hour when there is absolutely no one else there. What can they possibly be doing all time without any patients? I have never been able to figure out why the waiting time is so slow; nevertheless, I'm already nervous because I'm aware of the impending pain which awaits me. The secretary who works in Dr. Bernstein's office is always so polite, yet it's almost as if she takes pleasure in watching me wait in doomed anticipation.
Every-time I finally get past the yearlong wait in the lobby I have to muster my courage to face and survive Dr. Bernstein's dental hygienist. The hygienist is a nice and sweet woman by all accounts, but she has the hand-eye coordination of a pit bull. Countless times she has mauled my mouth with a dizzying array of dental instruments; consequently, I just can't understand why she is trying to maim me. I have ultimately come to the stark conclusion that she has mistaken me for some sort of dental masochist that of which I am not.
A dental office should be warm, welcoming, and modernistic; however, it seems that Dr. Bernstein's office is well equipped in the classic era of 1962. Fading, plain, wallpaper and medieval dental chairs are emblazoned with the insignia of discomfort and unpleasantness. Why can't I see pictures of flowers and rainbows to ease my mind off the dental distraction?
Finally arriving at Dr. Bernstein's workstation the mere sight of his dental chair seems to instill a greater fear in me. Unlike his dental hygienist Dr. Bernstein insists on reminding me of how many checkups I've missed. The trait that I hate the most about him is how physically rough he is when working inside my mouth; meanwhile, never pausing a single second to see if I'm even alive! Dr. Bernstein is a very experienced dentist, but his emphasis is speed disregarding my comfort for the sake of convenience.
I can completely understand why I'm in dire fright, and why I suffer from «Dental Shell Shock». My wife is completely amazed at how often I return to Dr. Bernstein's office, but I have to seek change because this is my health that is ultimately at stake. I will certainly take my time in selecting a dentist who is patient, caring, and not so cold. No one should fear going to the dentist even if they do give one the occasional lollipop.
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