It was a disaster from the very moment Clarice walked through the door of the dental surgery. Firstly, there were loud popping sounds, making her nervous to the core. Then there was that birthday song, followed by the firing of questions like, What are you going to do now that you've turned thirty? and, Will there be a ring anytime soon?
A ring? Why would there be a ring on her finger. She had never even gone on date, let alone known anyone who would want to put a ring on her finger. Who were they asking, a supermodel with a size-two figure?
Once she managed to escape the clucking dental assistants, she headed towards the reception desk.
"Why are you looking all gloomy today, Clarice?" Gracey, the receptionist, asked. "It was your birthday over the weekend, wasn't it? Did you get lots of presents?"
"Yes, lots." Clarice smiled.
"Your patients left a few for you too." Gracey gestured to the staff table where there was an abundance of wrapped gifts.
"Really? Not again." Clarice went to the table, and sure enough, presents ranging from flowers to chocolate hearts sat on the table, all from the patients that regularly attended their dental surgery.
"Do you have a man yet?" Gracey asked.
"No," Clarice answered glumly.
"Then my suggestion is to pick one of those," Gracey said, referring to Clarice's
patients.
"No way. They're my patients. We know the policy of patient care. Do not date
your patients while they are under your care."
"You could always date the man, then let him change practices."
"I'm sorry, but I love money too much." Clarice giggled. "I wouldn't want him to
change practices, now would I? I might lose all that money he spends on his gum treatments."
"Yeah, yeah. But happy birthday, Clarice. I wish you all the best now that you're thirty. All the wiser for the next ten years."
"Thank you." Clarice nodded, smiling.
"Do you feel wiser, more experienced in love... I mean life?"
"Yes, I am very well experienced in life, regarding working for money and
owning my own business, but for that love bit... I admit I'm as rusty as a box of nails left out in the rain."
"You, girl, have to go out more."
"Oh, but I did!" Clarice grinned at Gracey, as if she were hiding some sort of secret.
"Before you turned thirty?" Gracey asked. "Yes."
"What happened?"
"I went to a nightclub."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"And...?"
"It was a disaster." Clarice frowned.
"Disaster, like how?" Gracey gasped in horror.
"Not telling," Clarice said cheekily. "I'll let you think on that one. Now what's
today's schedule like?" She changed the subject, not wishing to discuss how embarrassing it was to spit that spirit onto that man's face and shirt. She couldn't help admiring his baby-blue shirt, though. From her early days as a sales assistant working in the menswear department in Farmers, she knew the material must be very expensive.
"Clarice, you meanie. I'll find out for sure from one of your friends, just you wait."
"Aye, aye." She just winked at her.
If Gracey wanted to find out about what happened to her after the embarrassing episode, then even Elise and Whitney couldn't answer her question. After she spit on the man, she ran away to the restroom and stayed there until she texted her friends to collect her. What a pleasant way to spend her special day. Leaning against the wall between the sinks and the paper towel dispenser, she swore she would never, ever drink again.
"So what's on the agenda?" Clarice asked again.
"Today's schedule is packed. As always. The patients just love you."
"Why thank you. Always good to hear."
"At 9:00, Mrs. Bennett is coming for a suture removal from that crown
lengthening procedure you did last week. 9:15 a.m., Mr. Bronze is coming in for an implant consult. I scheduled him for forty-five minutes just in case you want to do the advance periodontal charting and all that. Then Miss Brown is coming in for a gum graft consult at 10:00 a.m. Says she's not happy with her roots showing. From what I know, I think she uses a firm toothbrush to scrub her teeth," Gracey whispered to Clarice.
Gracey had never worked in the dental field before. She got very upset when everyone started speaking in dental terminology. She said she felt like an alien being dropped on Earth, as she was the only one who hadn't a clue what the one-one or three- six was. She had made it her mission to learn every single term the dental team used. Now she knew the tooth denotation and even told her back in laymen's terms that a one- one was an upper right central incisor and a three-six was a bottom left first molar. And for every surgery that was spoken in dental terms, she would translate it back in laymen's terms. And it was Clarice's job, being the big boss and the specialist of the practice, to always correct Gracey if she ever made a mistake.
"That's why a majority of the time, patients having gum recession tend to want a gingival graft," Clarice added.
"Again, I gave her forty-five minutes so you could talk to her properly. You get a break at 10:45. Then at 11:00, you have Mrs. Beanstalk coming in for her deep scaling. She said she's allergic to adrenaline local anesthetic, so I asked Molly to stock up on some Citanest cartridges for you. You know how fussy she is."
"Not the Mrs. Macy Beanstalk." Clarice whined and rested her head on the reception countertop. She was getting a headache already just hearing the name.
Mrs. Macy Beanstalk was nothing like her name. She wasn't tall or stalk-like. If Clarice were able to rename Mrs. Beanstalk, she would call her Mrs. Muffin because the woman was just so round. And she talked a lot. There were many subjects she talked
about, so Clarice just wished today's topic wouldn't linger on husbands and babies, because she didn't want to hear it at the moment.
Husband + babies + over thirty = a bad combination for Clarice.
"It's all right. You could always shut her up with a suction in her mouth. Or even better, just drown the woman. Give her a lesson in not talking too much," Gracey suggested.
"I would love to shut her up, as you say, but we can't go around drowning our patients, now can we? I might lose my practicing certificate."
"You are right, Dr. Clarice Chantee Mason."
"Thank you, Gracey, but tell me this. Why do all my patients' names start with B today?"
"I have no idea. Probably fate," Gracey suggested.
"Aye, aye, maybe fate," Clarice said. Maybe fate would lead her to her future husband too.
The first thing Clarice did when she crossed the threshold of her surgery was to close her eyes and inhale the fresh, clean scent. It smelled of sterile equipment and alcohol. The scent still lingered even after the cleaners had done their job.
Clarice really liked coming into the clinic at this time of the morning, when everything was so peaceful. The tick-tocking of the clock drew her attention. She gave a sigh. Another thirty minutes to go before Mrs. Bennett was due for her stitch removal.
Just then, Molly popped her head into the door.
"Good morning, Clarice," she greeted cheerfully.
"Good morning, Molly," Clarice replied, smiling at the young girl.
Molly was her dental assistant. She was very young, only nineteen. She decided at
seventeen that she wanted to become a dental assistant. Now her dream had come true. Good for her, Clarice thought, for already deciding what she wants out of life. "Has Gracey briefed you yet on today's schedule?"
"Only for the morning." Clarice logged on to the computer system and clicked on
Mrs. Bennett's name. Her file came on the screen, and she started reading it.
"Would you like me to get some Savacol for Mrs. Bennett? She might have run
out already," Molly asked.
"Yes, thanks," Clarice said without tearing her eyes off the screen. "Oh, and bring
me the interdental brushes too. I might need them for Mrs. Beanstalk. We have to make sure she's cleaning between her teeth."
"Sure," Molly answered, then disappeared into the storeroom to retrieve all the necessary equipment.
The day was as uneventful as chalk and cheese. Time crawled by like a snail race, and soon Mrs. Macy Beanstalk arrived. Today the subject of their conversation was women over thirty having no family, the one subject Clarice had hoped to avoid.
"So, you know, my friend, she's thirty-six and not a single baby coming her way."
"Why?" Clarice pretended to sound interested. That was one part of her job that she disliked. To pretend to be interested in her patients' conversation when in reality, her mind was in La-La Land.
"Too old, that's what. If you want a baby, you've got to have them before you turn thirty-five."
"Is that a fact?" Clarice asked just in case Mrs. Beanstalk was lying to her. She needed to do some research first before believing in what this patient said.
"Of course it is." The lady continued.
Against her better judgment, this conversation was starting to scare her. She knew she wanted a family, but what if what Mrs. Beanstalk was saying held truth? She'd already turned thirty. Not too long now before her body could no longer conceive a child. But she couldn't just go to some random person and ask them to donate sperm for her, right?
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed true. Then an idea struck her. Oh, what a perfect solution to her problem. She couldn't wait to get home and ring Elise and Whitney.
All right, enough talking, Mrs. Beanstalk, Clarice thought. Time to put that suction to good use.
