A Trip To The New (sort of) Dentist

I've been going to the same dentist since I was a child. Recently I learned that the practice has been bought out. My dentist is still the same one but the name has changed and the building has been renovated. Here's my diary of today's visit (because writing distracts me from dental anxiety)!

10.25am - I arrive outside the dentist after one embarrassingly unsuccessful attempt to reverse park. I check the clock. I am 25 minutes early as per usual. I get out my phone and mess about with some apps then decide to write a poem.

I'm early for the dentist

I'm sat here in my car

Panicking about the plaque

And all of the tartar

That may very well be building

Up around my gums

I really hate the dentist

Why do I have to come?

I hope my teeth are ok

And I don't need a filling

Or something worse which may involve

Far more extravagant billing

I'm going to go in now

And wait inside the place

I'll meet you at the other side

Hopefully with the same teeth in my face

10.40am - I've run out of car based stalling. I walk to the dentist. The door has changed colour. It's now somewhere between fuscia and magenta. There's no sign up at all. I internally panic that it might have moved buildings without telling me. I open the door and go in anyway.

It is still a dentist surgery, the reception has been fully renovated. A whole wall has been taken out it's a little unsettling. The room is spectacularly purple. I tell the receptionist I am here and early. I'm given medical form to fill out.

I sit down and fill in the form pondering who actually has anything new to add to these forms every 6 months.

Afterwards I remember my mum hasn't seen the new dentists yet. I get my phone out and silently take a photo. As I put my phone away I notice the cctv. I internally panic I'm not meant to take photos and they might strike me off the nhs dentist list. I prepare my "it's a photo to show my mum" speech in my head.

10.50am - I'm called in to see the dentist. The room and dentist are still exactly the same. I sit in the chair and the interrogation light is shone in my face. The dentist counts.

10.51am - My teeth are all counted. They are all fine. I return to the reception to pay.

10.52am - I make an appointment for 6 months time. The receptionist says "that'll be £22.70 please" I internally scream "HOW MUCH?! To count my teeth?!?" I pay, but for the first time ever I am able to pay with my debit card. My dentist has only ever taken cash or cheques before. They're now in the 21st century.

I say goodbye, get in my car and leave.

Ends