So set 'em' up Joe, I’ve got I little story I think you should know …

Some days like this last Tuesday I would not chews again. However, it was in many respects innocuous compared to the trials of others as you will see:

I had booked in to see my dentist for a routine check up and a very minor repair to a small broken filling. Now, I am okay with the dentist, we runners and race walkers understand pain. But, I was not looking forward to this visit, because I had to acquaint myself with yet another new dentist at this location – the fourth incarnation of my original dentist.

Now folks, I like the feeling of a familiar dentist – one I have known, and come to rely on for good judgment, skills and (in terms of my wallet) fair play - a tried and tested fellow.

But now, I had to accustom myself to yet another dentist – the fourth in four years.

Anyhoo, I rolled up and was confronted with a middle aged Indian man who spoke with a Kiwi accent – so I surmised a New Zealander by birth.

He was most amiable, and to his credit, explained every step of the journey of put-in-new-filling, examine, clean and polish.

During the examination, he found a smallish hole in a large filling. Don’t ya hate that! Again, to his credit, he showed it to me – smoke and mirrors. Well, actually a large mirror. Yes, I could see it, as he picked away at it. Very small – but of course, yes folks, here was a case for deep excavation and a new filling.

Unfortunately, one or so events during this above journey sort of concerned me. The instruments knocked off the table to the floor. And the strange case of the missing dental tape “Now I thought it was in the draw”. Then there was the nurse, the dental assistant, who kept disappearing to double as a receptionist until the real receptionist arrived.


The dentist thus, had to adopt two personas whilst filling my tooth – nurse mixing gooey stuff and dentist using gooey type stuff.

It was all a bit bizarre.

He remained amiable – and by the time I strolled into reception to pay my bill and book for the major excavation, the receptionist had fronted. I booked my appointment for the excavation for the next day – 8 am – “get it over and done with” said I.


Then it was the bill for the mornings journey – $370. I staggered, I swayed, my knees buckled. “I need water” I cried. For the first time, I really knew the meaning of gobbed-smacked.

I remonstrated.

“How much for tomorrow’s major excavation?” I enquired. $350 – I staggered, I swayed and you know the rest.

I remonstrated.

Quietly and carefully, they explained the costings. They showed me previous sums I had forked out to previous incarnations of the current dentist.. I understood inflation. I acquiesced.

Back at my office, I calmed down … until … I remembered the dropped instruments… the lost tape … the nurse who came and went .... my imagination took flight.

“OMG” I cried, at my desk. I am in for a painful day tomorrow – maybe even death on the dentist chair. Panic quietly and inexorably set in. Irrationality took over in my skull. “Dead by lunchtime,” I mumbled.

And to calm my nerves for the events to come – tonight, as I write, some liquid refreshment. A cup of English breakfast tea.

So make it one for my tooth and one for the dentist … and another for my tooth and ….