Constipation is no fun. It had been a rough night. A week without a bowel movement, I’d had to resort to laxatives. They were intense. The next day I was scheduled for a dentist appointment--one I could not miss--but I was feeling better by morning so things seemed ok.
It was the last booking in the day--they had just squeezed me in. I took the time off work and arrived promptly.
As I lay down on the retractable chair the nurse prepared a tray of tools, humming pleasantly while fussing over the order of torture utensils. First came the mouth brace to hold my jaw open. She crammed it in unceremoniously still humming the lovely tune.
“I’ll be right back Mr. Simmons, Carrolyn will take care of you.” The dentist informed me on his way out the door. The dental technician sipped at her glass of water.
“Ahuh.” I spoke through a mouth jarred open with a steel brace.
Carrolyn filled a syringe from a glass vial. The humming had progressed into a small jig. She obviously enjoyed her job.
She leaned over me with needle in hand. “Hold still now, this may hurt a little.”
Tears streamed unchecked from my eyes. “Uuhguuhh.” I tried to voice my complaints. After the fifth stabbing I was sure something wasn’t right. I only came in for one filling.
A gleeful smile pulled at her cheeks as she peered down at me. Still dancing, she began to talk while the stabbing continued.
“I love days like today,” she said. “I live out in the countryside, you see. After such a fine day I look forward to the train ride home. It takes about an hour but that gives me plenty of time to read a few short stories from steemit. Have you heard of steemit? It’s a wonderful place full of talented writers.”
By now my whole face felt like dissociated concrete. She refilled the syringe.
“Uh-uh, Uh-UH!” I was more than a little concerned.
She smiled warmly at me after another sip from her glass of water. “Don’t worry, Mr. Simmons there’s plenty more. We won’t run out.”
Thank the gods the dentist walked back in at that point. The nurse innocently lay the needle back on the tray.
“Right, are we all ready? Let me test.” The dentist donned a mask and gloves then chose an instrument. Prodding my mouth, he asked, "Feel anything?"
I tried to respond but only managed a grunt.
The dentist prodded again. "You must be unusually sensitive to anesthesia..."
She looked at me, still smiling and then gave me a deliberate wink. She knew! She knew what she was doing. I stared at her in disbelief as she turned away, resuming her humming.
The dentist was preoccupied with putting on some gloves. I fumbled in my pockets and realised I still had the pack of laxatives. As quickly as I could, considering my dead face and the awkward position, I pulled out several of the dissolvable pills and dropped them into her glass of water. Enjoy your train ride home now. These should kick in about when you leave town...