I checked my watch 12:25; only five minutes until my appointment. I stood up and strolled up the street towards the orthodontists practice. I walked up the three stairs so I was level with the door. The door had nine large square panels of disorientated glass so you could see into the practice but could only just make out the general area and colours of the floors, walls and benches rung the buzzer and walked onto the wooden laminated floorboards. The walls were plain except for a few strategically placed NHS notices and adverts to make you consider teeth whitening for only £195 per person. I marched down the hallway to a large wooden door with one circular pothole and a metal panel reading “reception”. I pushed the heave door open and staggered into a room not unlike the hallway with very similar styling. It seemed that wooden laminate floors and plain white walls covered in few posters and notices were the status quo for orthodontic practice decorating. I gave my name at reception and took a seat at one of the green leather benches designed with the sole purpose of lack of comfort and sore behinds in mind. One by one all the existing patients were called on the tannoy and new patients entered. My mind left me and I began to daydream about food but my dreams were abruptly cut by a tannoy announcement “Imran Ahmed to surgery one please. Thank you.” Fear suddenly caught me as my legs stood up of their own accord, I opened the wooden door. My hands my hands griping the door handle leaving droplets of sweat on the door handle.
A similar wooden door with a single circular glass pothole stood in front of me but this door had “surgery one “on the metal label. I took a deep breath, rubbed my hands on my jeans to dry the moisture off of them then knocked the door and walked in.
Surgery one was a large room with little walls to be shown as they were completely covered by plain white cabinets. It resembled a kitchen quite a lot but it also resembled an alien space ship as there was a huge operating chair placed in the centre of the room. What’s more this chair had tentacle protruding the side of it so it looked more extra-terrestrial. At the end of these tentacles were various operating tools. The whole place was white and my eyes struggled to adjust before a small bald man told me to sit down. I obeyed not daring to make him repeat himself.” Open wide” he said. I felt like a puppet, powerless to have a say in the matter. He began to mutter sum numbers “lower left 4, 2 and 7 please Susan.” although this was clear English I kept losing my attention on his speech and soon started to hear an altogether different language. “OK Imran, this won’t hurt a bit” he was lying clear as a blank sheet of paper or similarly surgery one. He sprayed some extremely minty spray into my mouth. It hurt my taste buds. He then took the drill, one of the instruments attached to a tentacle. He attached a piece of what seemed to be steel cloth. “Ok this is to brush your teeth.” He activated the drill and a sudden high pitched scream filled the room. It hurt my ears. He brushed my teeth. I could feel small things hitting the roof of my mouth. I hoped it wasn’t chippings of my teeth. The “toothbrush” had left my teeth aching. Once he had finished with this he picked up small metal squares and placed them into my teeth, fixing them by applying huge pressure. My gums hurt. Finally the orthodontist placed the wire in the pieces of metal. That didn’t hurt.
“All done. You see, that didn’t hurt did it?” I shook my head agreeing with him, deciding lying was better than staying here a moment longer.
”O.K so I’ll be seeing you again in fifteen weeks, until then take good care of your new brace and remember to brush twice a day. No eating for the next five hours. Bye”
“Bay” I said, sounding pathetic already half way out the door. I raced out of the practice with sore teeth and now also very hungry. As I walked down the cobbled pavement towards the bus stop all I wished was that I had eaten two pizza baguettes before my appointment, one was not nearly filling enough
