The God’s Gift to Medicine

Lying quite uncomfortably on the examination chair while facing the unbearably
bright lamp lights, I squirmed nervously, desperately trying my best to ignore the
gloominess of the situation. I gave my all to focus on staying calm in the extremely
horrendous dentist room, but the events of just a few days prior kept running through
my head—the intense pain, my overwhelming fear, and the frantic and steady
persuasions of caregivers to consult a doctor. A young doctor, who was likely to be an
undergraduate, told me I had to get my wisdom tooth pulled. For the time being, I
would grin over the absurdity of my response to the news: “So, I can’t eat my
favourite ice cream with salty caramel flavour, can I? What a bummer!”.

I had to wait for several minutes to finally find out whether I would be operated on
that day or next time, I became an extremely jumpy patient as the fear of removing
the tooth was upon me, in addition, the atmosphere of a bitterly cold white-painted
room put fear in my heart. I should never have thought that I could be in dread about
such little things as dental treatment.

A slow-moving and loose walk brought the doctor into the surgery. At that tense
moment, I was wondering whether I needed to undergo the knife that day but almost
as if from reading my mind, the doctor replied to my question without me even
having time to ask it. He exclaimed hastily with some kind of inspiration infusing
calmness into my heart: «The operation is going to be today! Get ready within 15
minutes». That charming and steady voice of the doctor made me ease up and I
pushed all the thoughts of possible complications out of my mind.

The 15 minutes of tedious waiting seemed like an eternity, I was sitting just near the
dentist's surgery and staring into space with an air of anxiety. Despite the fact that the
surgeon-dentist soothed me, tears trickled down my face, this time I had no idea why
tears welled up in my eyes, whether it was because of the coming abstinence from
salty caramel ice cream or the haunting fear of possible surgery aftermath.

At last, the doctor called me out with somewhat enthusiasm as if he was convinced of
the successful outcome. I said nothing and laid a foot inside the eerie room, the
doctor and his assistants got everything arranged for the surgical procedure and then
he led me to the chair with a radiant smile. As soon as I sat in the chair I brought the
dreadful «clinic environment» back in my mind and my face reddened slightly.

«That won’t do! Keep up your spirit!» - it was the only phrase that I recalled after the
removing was done. To my surprise, I didn’t feel anything and the dental surgery
lasted for 45 minutes sharp. The worst was over and I was no longer afraid of going
through the treatment. The most crucial thing is to seek out the doctor to trust.