Pulling Teeth
The phone call came early in the morning, at the point at which I had arrived at work but long before I had officially woken up. “This is your Dentist’s surgery” snapped the voice at the end of the line. “Are you aware that you haven’t been in to see us since APRIL?” The word April was exaggerated to give the impression of the committing of some heinous crime. “We don’t exactly FORCE our patients to come into the surgery but when we haven’t seen you for such a LONG TIME we do feel the need to contact you.”
As you can imagine the idea of visiting the dentist is not exactly one of those things which I excitedly mark in the diary and then count the days down to with a heightening sense of eager anticipation. The last time an appointment had been made for me I had managed to get out of it by having to go to a meeting at work. After sending them a letter explaining how sorry I was I just stopped contacting them and hoped that they would forget about me. Little did I know that the receptionist had a detection system second only to that of an over enthusiastic bloodhound. For all I know she had been trailing me for months, waiting for just the right moment to pounce.
I’m not actually very strong willed in the face of such administrative authority and mumbled that yes, I would take the next available appointment.
“Ah but that’s not good enough” she said, with what I’m sure was a note of satisfaction in her voice.
“You have been away so long now that you will need TWO appointments”. “One for a check up and one for a scale and polish.”
“What’s a scale and polish” I said feeling like a car about to face an MOT.
She didn’t give me a definitive answer apart from saying ominously “The dentist wouldn’t suggest one if he didn’t think you needed one”.
By now, feeling utterly press ganged and not even receiving a king’s shilling to show for it, I asked her to suggest a date.
“Well, by this stage there’s no free dates until January, but we SHOULD be able to fit you in then”. she said with a sigh which appeared to indicate that there being no free dates until January was in some way my fault.
The date made, she rang off, in order to harass some other poor individual who also was under the false apprehension that he had thrown the dentist off his scent.
Shaken, I resumed my work and to prove how out of sorts I was, proceeded to ask a colleague who lives in Glasgow if she needed travel and accommodation organised in order to attend a training course in (yes, you’ve guessed it) Glasgow.
I think I need a holiday!
As you can imagine the idea of visiting the dentist is not exactly one of those things which I excitedly mark in the diary and then count the days down to with a heightening sense of eager anticipation. The last time an appointment had been made for me I had managed to get out of it by having to go to a meeting at work. After sending them a letter explaining how sorry I was I just stopped contacting them and hoped that they would forget about me. Little did I know that the receptionist had a detection system second only to that of an over enthusiastic bloodhound. For all I know she had been trailing me for months, waiting for just the right moment to pounce.
I’m not actually very strong willed in the face of such administrative authority and mumbled that yes, I would take the next available appointment.
“Ah but that’s not good enough” she said, with what I’m sure was a note of satisfaction in her voice.
“You have been away so long now that you will need TWO appointments”. “One for a check up and one for a scale and polish.”
“What’s a scale and polish” I said feeling like a car about to face an MOT.
She didn’t give me a definitive answer apart from saying ominously “The dentist wouldn’t suggest one if he didn’t think you needed one”.
By now, feeling utterly press ganged and not even receiving a king’s shilling to show for it, I asked her to suggest a date.
“Well, by this stage there’s no free dates until January, but we SHOULD be able to fit you in then”. she said with a sigh which appeared to indicate that there being no free dates until January was in some way my fault.
The date made, she rang off, in order to harass some other poor individual who also was under the false apprehension that he had thrown the dentist off his scent.
Shaken, I resumed my work and to prove how out of sorts I was, proceeded to ask a colleague who lives in Glasgow if she needed travel and accommodation organised in order to attend a training course in (yes, you’ve guessed it) Glasgow.
I think I need a holiday!
10 comments:
Hmmm...I don't think you should need two dentist appointments after just six months. Your dentist sounds a little...intense.
Intense is a very good word Katie. Obsessional is another!
Gwen, you should look at it like this. You have a small phobia of dentists, and they, concerned for your well being, feel that it's in your best interests that you need a little prompting to take the proper care and attention required to keep yourself ticking over correctly.
It's not like they've looked at their books and said "There's a poor soul who we haven't dragged every last bit of revenue out of. Get her on the phone quick! Ooooh and make sure you flog her forty quids worth teeth cleaning. For a laugh, see if you can make her feel guilty in the process.
This also applies to opticians vets and vampires.
Rant over. Sorry.
You're lucky, I've been trying to get in touch with my dentist for a month now but I keep getting their answering machine (which they appear not to check). I think they're the only dentist around who takes on NHS patients so they get a little busy :-/
Good grief, Gwen - what a bully-boy dental practice! I only have to go once every 18 months, and they got so used to me saying 'no, thank you' to the hygienist that they no longer bother to try and flog me her services.
Resist these orthodontic thugs!
I like my dentist. He makes me feel relaxed, and he never does anything uneccessary. Should I make you an appointment, Gwen. Wandsworth is handy for you isn't it?
They are a shower of footpads and vagabonds. My feckin dentist drives a Maserati and all this now we won't treat you under the nhs any more is a great big pile of poo...
I absolutely hate the dentist. I had a bad experience some years ago with a dodgy one who didn't seem to have a clue what he was doing and ended up giving me 6 injections just to get my mouth numb before hacking out my tooth and leaving me in agony!!
My current dentist has been trying to get hold of me too, but I'm less than enthusiastic - even though I know that I should really go for a checkup!!
Loved your post, it made me laugh out loud!
A holiday you deserve! I've memed you....check out my blog.
I have yet to be troubled by vets and vampires and I look forward to the experience. It can be no worse than dentists.
I wish I had your dentists both John and ISBW.
Wandsworth Five Centres. That sounds like the perfect distance to put between anyone and her dentist.
I would agree with that Auntie Gwen.
I feel for you Funky Munky and understand your fear of going to the dentist.
Thanks Kelly, much appreciated.
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