The Dentist Refuses to See Me (V-Discrimination?)

Last year during peak insanity, I had to see the dentist. This was back when I wasn’t allowed to enter a cafe or cinema, or even go visit my elderly mother in the nursing home. Yes, Australia lost its collective mind. But I needed to see the dentist, so I gave them a call. It’s the same dentist I’ve been seeing for a long time now, so they were very polite to me. Over the phone, they were asking all the normal questions, but were obviously trying to broach the subject of vaccination. I’m not stupid, I knew what they wanted to ask. So I just told them that I’m not vaccinated against COVID-19. As I said, they were very polite, but they said that they would have to follow new protocols and the only way they could see me was if I was the last patient of the day (because after they see me, they would have to perform a thorough “deep clean”). Okay, whatever. I didn’t really care. I just needed to see a dentist.

When I arrived, I was cordoned off in a marked area, kind of like cattle being cordoned off for slaughter. Apart from the receptionist, the dentist and the assistant, there was nobody else in the building. They were all dressed in cloaks, face masks, and face shields, and asked me to put on a face mask. They were treating me a bit like I had the black plague, except being quite polite about it. I was like a leper of old segregated into their own compound, feared and ostracised by the outside world, frequently condemned to wander the roads wearing a sign and ringing a bell to warn healthy people of my approach. (Noting that I was completely fit and healthy at the time. I didn’t have any symptoms of anything whatsoever, but they still treated me like I was some kind of walking dead).

I walked down the corridor by myself wearing my N95, noting that I said there was nobody else in the building, and then as I sat up on the dental chair, I was asked to take off my mask. Anyway, apart form the ridiculousness of wearing a face mask down the empty corridor, then taking it straight off when I arrived, the dental treatment went fine. Once they finished, I was asked to put my mask back on straight away, and was promptly ushered out the front door (of course, not before paying a hefty bill).

One year later, now that the insanity has mostly subsided, there are pretty much no more mandates for the general public. You don’t have to wear masks. Us lepers are free to go to the restaurant or the pub without carrying a bell or sign. But about four weeks ago, I needed to see the dentist again. I rang them up, and they were very polite as usual. They told me that they’d have to ring me back after checking a few things. Two weeks later, they still hadn’t rang me back, so I contacted them again. Again, they were very polite, and the receptionist told me that they might have a cancellation on Friday. I said, “Great”, I’ll see you then. But then they just told me that they’d have to check a couple of things before they booked me in, and that they’d get back to me that afternoon. I guess it’s no surprise to you that they never got back to me. That was two weeks ago.

I don’t mean to tar all dentists with the same brush, but from my experience, dentists like money, right? If they see me, they get my money. So there must be some reason they’re not booking me in for an appointment.

Yes, I know, I could just go see another dentist, but I’m a creature of habit. I don’t like changing my routine. Plus, I like a challenge. I want to work out why they don’t want to see me. Is it just an innocent misunderstanding? Are these trained medical professionals actually fearful of me because I haven’t had a couple of doses of AstraZeneca? Or, perhaps more likely, are they just embarrassed? Are they embarrassed that they treated me like some sort of plague-ridden swamp creature, despite me being obviously healthy? Are they embarrassed that despite them being trained medical professionals, they still somehow let themselves go along with all the arbitrary and often ridiculous pandemic measures? I guess I’ll never know.

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Allégro by Emmit Fenn