Page 68 of The Strategist
Stop thinking. Focus on your patient.
His slow breathing told me he was trying his best to concentrate on that instead of the noisy equipment. If I had innovative equipment, it would help people recover from this phobia faster. With all the technology available today, why hadn’t they invented something beneficial to the dental industry?
I had a few ideas for better equipment, but I had no clue where to get started. Plus, I didn’t have the funds to work on something like that. For example, a silencer for my handpiece would be awesome. No more loud noises. Kids would love it.
Sound was very important to a person’s mental state. People listened to certain music to relax or get into a certain mood. A loud drill was as far away from relaxation as one could get. On bad days, I found the sound of the handpiece irritating as hell.
If the weapons industry could invent a silencer for a gun, why couldn’t they create one for a handpiece? It would be so easy for them.
Not enough money in dentistry.
Well, not general dentistry, but certainly cosmetic dentistry. The beauty business made loads of money, but I had no interest in servicing that community.
He flinched when water sprayed on his cheek. “Sorry.” I wiped it with his napkin. “You’re doing great, by the way.”
He nodded, and I knew he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
He had fabulous hygiene and beautiful teeth for someone who hadn’t been to the dentist in a year. The fear probably motivated him to take extra care of his teeth.
When we were done with the cleaning, I performed a quick x-ray. After reviewing it, I said, “You’re all set. No cavities. Keep up the good work.” I gave him a bag with a toothbrush and toothpaste.
“Thank you.” He took the bag and peeked inside. “No toy?”
I smiled. “We need to save those for the little kids. And you’re welcome.”
A serious expression splashed onto his face. “I’ve never had such a comfortable dental experience. Be my dentist from now on.”
I arched an eyebrow at his demand. A man accustomed to shouting orders didn’t usually ask for anything. But I wasn’t the type to comply with orders either.
“Is that a request or a command?”
He smiled. “It’s a plea.”
“I’ll think about it. I made an exception for today’s visit. Consider this as repayment for you taking care of me while I was drunk.”
“I’ll pay you extra to be my dentist.”
“It’s not about the money, Arrow. If I become your dentist, then other adults would also ask me. I would have to decline, which would make them angry, and so on. I don’t have time to deal with that.”
“I could come in after hours,” he said, trying to look adorable.
I laughed. “Are you planning on having a lot of cavities or something? Right now, you’re good until the next cleaning, which would be in six months.”
“See? You can be my dentist twice a year. That’s not bad at all.”
An idea percolated in my mind. I let it simmer while I considered his request.
“If I agree to be your dentist, can you help me with something? You know more people than I do.”
“How can I help?”
I told him about my silencer idea, and he beamed. “That’sbrilliant.”
His excitement and praise did something to my heart. I hadn’t shared this idea with anyone until today. It felt wonderful to have someone understand where I was coming from.
“You have the specs?” he asked.
“Just a rough sketch, but that’s it. I don’t know where to go to have it produced or have the funds to?—”
