Cracking my knuckles, I look around,
That chemical scent and the constant buzzing sound,
And poster people with smiles on their face;
Morbid does not begin to describe this place.
Clutching my pained jaw, I wait my chance,
I see a white coat approach and steal a glance;
She walks over, calls out my name, scans the crowd,
Dazed, staring at her, before I realise my name out loud.
I shuffle off my seat, she starts leading me to the chair,
Following, I can’t help but stare;
Momentarily relieved of the throbbing pain in my tooth,
She looked too young to be a dentist, to tell you the truth.
She sat me down in the chair and puts on her mask,
Pen in hand, a few questions she begins to ask;
After every reply, I have a question of my own,
She’s only a student, I should have known.
She wears her gloves and switches on the chair light,
A mirror and something that seemed a little sharper than I would have liked;
Peers into my mouth and begins prodding here and there,
Probes around a tooth and, in pain, I jump off the chair.
She gave a sympathetic nod and a masked smile,
As she wrote something else into my file;
“We’re going to have to extract that tooth, I’m afraid.”
She was honestly the only reason I stayed.
Today, my pathological fear of injections is going to take a backseat,
It’s not too often such a pretty dentist I meet;
A silent prayer in my head as the needle touches my gum,
With an anesthesised mouth I ask her where she’s from.
And as we wait for it to kick in, we talk a little more,
Until my jaw begins to feel a little sore;
She gets right to work, ploughing about,
Until finally she gets the tooth out.
When she’s done, I give her a thirty-one tooth smile,
And ask her if she’s free tonight at nine.