mardi, octobre 16

#SMCSFBlogOff - A techie who isn't one

I had a problem with a tooth. I took a picture and wanted to mail it to my dentist before taking an appointement. To know if it was urgent and go see him in the same day or if it could wait a little while.
He has a bright and quite brand new equiped place. So many new tools. A 23rd century dentist chair. X-Ray right to his computer by the chair. He is linked to earth's womb and the skyes of science.

But no email in this place.

So I had to go there on the same day I called. The assistant said she'd ask the dentist, Doc, when I could go and she'd call me back.

My dentist used to have an assistant who seemed to come directly from the army. Well I was quite sure about it. We were some who didn't dare not to agree with her, not answer her questions right after she asked them. Yes M'dam!

Then he got a new assistant. She comes from the French Antilles (I can't get used to French West Indies in english).
She has a nonchalant way of talking: Cabinet médical du Doc The Dentist bonnnjouuuurrrrrrrrrr
At first I was surprised. French people are so directive and harsh sometimes. Many times.

Then something started happening: I got to Elisabeth's - this is her name - rythm.
Bonjouuuurrrrrrrrrrr Elisabeeeeeeeeth, comment allez-vouuuuuuuus? I have a proooooblem I neeeeeed to see Doc soooooon I thiiiink. It dooooesn't huuuuuuuurt but it coooould.
My brazilian accent which isn't very strong when I speak french rushes out from my most inner me. Eventhough she is not brazilian.
She is from the Islands.
When I'm at the dentist I'm in fact somewhere in the middle of the Tropics. They just need to get some coconut tree and put in the the waiting room and it will do it. There's already this waaaaaarm welcoming.
She knows my name. She knows by the sound of my voice who I am. When I call before I announce myself, before telling my name, if I speak for a little while she'd say bieeeeeeen sûûûûr Mademoiselle Le Maaaaaaanchoooooot.

And we get to the butcher's part, I mean the dentist part.
Surprisingly enough - or not? - he also got her rythm.
He says Oooopeeeen your mouthththththth. Don't close your iiiiiiiiiit yyyyyyyyet.
He says this specially when you've been there like 50 hours with your mouth wide open that your jaws got dislocated and you can't do any other movement.
At least he's not the kind of dentist who likes to talk to you and ask you questions while you can't answer.
Usually he hums some songs.

Yesterday it was the best day ever: there was my poor self lying there trying to think of something nice in order to forget that I was going ot leave my mouth and heart and soul and brains at the dentist's facility. I was trying to watch the documentary on the screen above the chair but it was a National Geographic one, one about Africa and I could see crocodiles ready to get a prey. I stopped watching, I could jump in surprise and...
The radio was on, we could hear it from far away.
Doc hummed a song in some kind of a classical style and rythm.  Not what we were listening to.
The next song was a bit more of an "awaken" one. He stopped. I could then see Elisabeeeeeeth in my field of vision moving her body like as if... she was dancing! I imagine her smile behind the mask.
Please Heaven do that Doc doesn't dance either. Specially when he has that thingy ruiwuiwuiwuiruiwruiw torture object in his hands.

My problem could have waited a few days to be solved/treated.
He probably could have tell me if he'd seen the pic that I was planning to mail him. A high tech dentist with no communication technology in his medical office.
And above all noone has the same rythm as Elisabeeeeeeeeeeeeth.

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