THE DENTIST

*sigh*

Does anyone look forward to going to the dentist?  Really?

When I went a few months ago, I was told I needed two crown caps and two fillings.  Yay.

So, after talking to Medibank Private, and learning that I would be out of pocked $1000 for each (each!) crown, I figured that I would simply tell the dentist that she has to come up with a better plan, or alternatively, when these two teeth shit themselves, I’ll be quite happy for her to pull them out, and eat through a fucken straw.

$1000?  Really?  Wtf?  I can handle two fillings, but I can’t cop $2000 for two teeth.  Fuck me…

Anyway, I had an appointment for my first filling the other day, at 4.15pm in Kilmore.  Strangely, I was looking forward to this appointment, because one of the ‘to be filled’ teeth is getting a little tender, and the other is simply a broken tooth that is scratching at my cheek.

I would like to point out that, even with these issues, I’m still miles ahead of your stock standard Collingwood supporter.

So I rock into the dental clinic at 4.10pm, check myself in at reception, and take a seat to wait my turn.

Now, I know I’ve said this before, but the thing that really shits me about these professional services, is the wait time.  We’re expected to be on time.  We get penalised if we’re late or cancel within 24 fucken hours, but if they’re running behind, it’s somehow acceptable? Like… our time is not as important as theirs, so we can sit there and fucken wait as long as we have to, or we’re back to waiting two months for another appointment…  fucken shits me.

Anyway, I drag out my reliable Kobo and start reading the latest Michael Scott.  I’m distracted by this woman who returns her ‘new client’ paperwork, and runs through a list of her allergies and ailments with the receptionist.  I absently wonder how this woman is still alive with all the shit she has wrong with her…

Then, to my horror, this woman parks her arse beside me, and starts grilling me on the benefits of an e-reader.  Fuck!  Leave me alone!

Thankfully, she’s called for her appointment, and leaves me in peace.

After a while, I pick up my phone and check the time (I’m one of these annoying people that don’t wear a watch): it’s 4.45pm.  I’ve been sitting here for 35 fucken minutes.  My patience starts dissolving, and I make a mental agreement with myself that if I haven’t gotten in there by 5pm, I’m outta there.

Quite frankly, I’m happy reading, but as I continue to do so, I’m distracted by the realisation that if they don’t hurry the fuck up, I’m never getting out of here tonight.

A short while later, a familiar looking face walks through the door behind the reception desk, says goodnight to the ladies, and heads off through the double doors, and into the car park.

It takes me a few moments to realise; that’s my dentist.  That’s Dr Funky (I named her that, because she’s not the stereotypical dentist I’m used to.  She’s pretty groovy).

She’s also just knocked off the for the day.

Now, I’ve only been there once before, and I’ve only met this chick once; but that looked like her… I think.  Her hair is down and she’s casually dressed, so I’m not 100% sure.

Surely, if I’m booked in to see her again, she would know I’m here?  I know I re-scheduled my last appointment… maybe they booked me in with a different dentist?

I shove my Kobo back into my bag, and stroll over to the reception desk.  The receptionist gives me a vague smile, but I can see ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ look flicker across her face.

‘Um… I had a 4.15pm appointment with Dr Funky… and I could have sworn that was her just leaving…’ I explain, pointing toward the door.

A frown creases her brow as she quickly grabs her mouse and starts searching the computer screen for answers.  ‘Your name was…’

‘Buttler.  Buttler with two tee’s.’  Great. They’ve fucked up.

Then, the entire colour suddenly drains from her face.  Yep; she’s fucked up.  Great. I shoot a quick glance at my phone; 4.55pm.  45 minutes lost.

She turns to her co-worker.  ‘Um… can you have a look at this for me?’ she asks, and her buddy rolls over in her chair and looks at the screen.  ‘This lady had a 4.15 appointment with Dr Funky…’

‘But she’s just left…’

‘Exactly.  This lady’s been waiting…’

‘Why is that not flagged on the screen?’ he buddy points, and looks up at me.  ‘Did you check in with reception when you arrived?’

‘Of course I did.’ I snap.  ‘Checked in with you.’

‘Oh.’  The two of them exchange ‘oh fuck’ looks.

I’m not going to bail them out.  I’m not going to say it.  They can say it to me.  They can tell me they’ve fucked up.

‘Look, I’m terribly sorry…’ the first receptionist finally says, ‘but it would appear that you weren’t flagged in our system as here, so we didn’t tell Dr Funky that you were waiting…’

‘Really?’ I snap.  ‘How could that be possible?  Honestly?  I’m mean; I’ve been sitting directly in front of you for the last 45 minutes.  Did the thought what the hell is she doing here not enter your mind at all?  Surely you don’t have people just sitting randomly in your waiting room?’

‘Um… I assumed you were waiting for someone…’ she stumbles, and her friend blushes about four shades of red.

‘Assumption is the mother of all fuck ups, my friend, and this is a perfect example.  You should have checked.’

‘Why didn’t you come to reception sooner?’ her friend asks a little sternly.

‘Why should I?’ I snap.  ‘It’s your job to keep on top of your patients, not mine.  You’ve had quite a few people in and out of this reception area whilst I’ve been here.  I thought you were running behind, as you were the last time I was here, which is why I didn’t approach you.  You should have been keeping better tabs on the patient list, and me.’

Fair point well made, I thought.  The two ladies just died a little more.

‘So, we can stand here all evening and discuss the fact that you have stuffed up, but it doesn’t get my tooth filled, does it?’  They just blinked at me, and looked at the computer screen.  Clearly, there was no one here to treat me. ‘I live in Tooborac.  That’s half an hour from here.  By the time I get home tonight, I will have wasted nearly two hours of my life on a non-existent appointment today, because of you.  I could have been doing far better things than this.’  They both hang their heads.  ‘What are my options now?’

My immediate reaction was to tell them to get fucked, march out the door, and find another dentist to treat me.

Problem is, I get two free check-ups per year from Medibank Private, and I’ve now used them both.  Forgive me for being a tight arse, but if I go to another dentist, they’re going to want to do a check-up before they fill anything.  I’m not lashing $160 because of the inefficiency of these two.

I have to stay here and re-schedule. *sigh*

‘Well, would you like to re-schedule?’

‘Considering I’ve used my free check-ups with Medibank, I feel I have no alternatives at this point, do I?’

‘Um…’ receptionist number one starts scanning through the computer appointments, and I open my phone diary.  ‘We can slot you in next Monday?’ she offers happily. 

‘I can’t do next Monday.’ I sigh.  ‘You don’t any evening appointments, do you?’

‘The latest we do is 4pm.’ she says firmly.

‘Really?  How come I had a 4.15 then?’ Another good point well made. ‘You don’t do Saturdays either, do you?’

‘No.’

‘Great.  It’s gonna have to be a Monday afternoon.’  So the ladies scan through their appointments, discussing it between themselves whilst I impatiently wait.

‘Um…. I can put you in at 2pm on the 19^th of November…?’

‘November? That’s like a month away?’ Oh you’re fucking kidding me?  ‘I need a tooth filled.  What do I do if something happens between now and then?’

‘We would try to get you in on the emergency list.’

‘I suggest you put me on that list now, because I shouldn’t have to wait a month for something that is not my fault, and has inconvenienced me so.’ I say quietly.

‘We’ll put you on the list.  Absolutely.’ She says quickly.  I sigh again, and key the appointment into my diary, wondering how I can get in to see someone sooner. 

‘I’m so terribly, terribly sorry about this situation,’ she says genuinely, and my heart of stone softens.  But only slightly.

‘There’s nothing that can be done now, is there?  Nearly two hours of my life, love.  What would happen if I wasted nearly two hours of Dr Funky’s time?  That’s something you need to address with her, because I certainly will when I come in for my appointment.’

‘Ahh… yes.’ She nods, the colour draining from her face again.  Don’t think I won’t be telling her love.  It’s not good enough…

As I turn and head out the double doors, I can’t help but feel sorry for them.  They seem like nice enough ladies, by why the fuck aren’t they keeping tabs on their patients?  If I was sitting behind that desk, that’s exactly what I would be doing.  But, that’s just me.

As I drive home, I resolve to keep my appointment with them next month, and the first thing out of my mouth, before the dentist shoves all of her instruments into it, will be a complaint about my last appointment, and a question as to how she’s going to compensate me for my lost time.

Wonder how I’ll go with that?

Peace out.