A dentist at work. Photo credit: Ivan Lian http://flic.kr/p/48qSgA
The background
In these straightened economic times, it seems that pretty much every even half clued-up business is fighting tooth and nail to win new trade and retain existing customers. Even dentists, not a profession known for their aggressive marketing.
The dentist’s chair is a slippery slope
Celia Walden on The Telegraph had words of warning for people who get a cold call from their (possibly cash-strapped) dentist: “When your dentist asks if you want to book in for a clean, remember that one thing leads to another.” In a humorous comment piece, she recounted how she went in for a clean and ended up having her wisdom teeth removed:
“‘Would you like to take your teeth home with you today?’ It wasn’t a question I expected having to answer last Thursday morning. ‘Single or return?’ possibly, ‘Small or large?’ almost certainly, but having my teeth offered up to me like ghoulish hors d’oeuvres on a tin tray? I never saw that coming. I’ve always been a sucker for authoritative opinion. If a plumber assures me that the hot water cylinders need to be replaced or the MOT guy informs me that my big end has gone, I’ll sigh, bow to their judgment, and ask how much all this is going to cost. Still, when the dentist called to tell me that I was due a check-up, I wasn’t going to submit without a fight. ‘I spend most of my time in the States,’ I explained, ‘so I’ve had a check-up quite recently.’ The dentist – suffering the recession along with everyone else – wouldn’t give in. ‘What about a clean?’ his receptionist asked. I pictured her boss standing over her, wielding a surgical implement of some kind. And just like that I folded. Never mind that I live in LA, where teeth are so clean that people have to wear sunglasses indoors. Two days later, I was flat on my back, having my wisdom teeth wrenched out by a Kiwi dental nurse named Francine. They weren’t ‘impacted’, she’d assured me, but having them out now would save me ‘trouble down the road’. Nobody wants ‘trouble down the road’, but neither do they want to find themselves re-enacting a Bruegel painting, when all they were expecting was a bit of deep flossing and some of that weird pink mouthwash. And the chirpiness; you could really do without the chirpiness when forceps are slowly disengaging teeth from your gum and there’s talk of facial bruising and mouth swabs. ‘I always tell my mother that this is the most satisfying part of my job,’ Francine smiles when she’s done. That’s nice, I tell her, as my mouth fills with blood. Do they take American Express? So when your dentist calls you asking if you want to book in for a clean, just remember that with dentists – as with all specialists – one thing always leads to another. You could find yourself walking home with your teeth in a sandwich bag.”
Do you have a dental horror story? Leave a comment and let us know.
