My Old Dentist

For some reason, I am thinking about my old dentist tonight. I don't know why.

Of the dentists I've had, he was the crankiest. In his sixties and Jewish, Dr. R always seemed irritated. He would get on my case for not flossing. Whatever he said felt condescending.

I visited him many times, and I rarely heard him crack a joke or even smile. I had never gotten upset by a dentist, but there were a few times when his patronizing attitude almost brought me to say something.

It was late 2004, and I would be leaving for Taipei soon. It was also time for my final checkup with Dr. R. I thought of printing out a cleverly designed "certificate" using fancy graphics and parchment paper: "World's Crankiest Dentist" it would say.

I never did create the award for him. I got my checkup and said goodbye to him.

When I returned to the States a year later, I found out that Dr. R was suffering from cancer and died soon after I left.

I'm glad I never printed that award for him. In my mind, he's still alive, and I send him thoughts of compassion, so that he's not so cranky.