Fresh Words Daily

Tennis is the best game in the world.  Others will disagree particularly the rugby crowd. But nothing beats the tension the athleticism and the intellectual connection that it takes to play this game.  My mother taught me to play tennis on our front lawn.  It wasn’t the full size of a tennis court and there was the likehood of hitting a window in the house but I learnt to run hard and to try for every shot.  She also taught me the manners of the game.  No shouting or throwing the racquet.  I was never a very good tennis player but it was a game I have always loved to watch.  This year the Heineken Open has been fraught with the vagaries of Auckland’s weather but on Monday the sun shone and the clouds stayed away and we saw some good tennis some mediocre stuff and plenty of drama.  It is a bit like theatre we await the players they step into the spotlight and deliver their lines – mostly it is mime but sometimes there are definite grunts.  Not so many squeals from the men.  Six hours of watching the best game in the world. Bliss.

It is never the most exciting appointment to keep – that one with the dentist.  We scrub and floss and hope that when we do have a check-up the drill will be left in its high-tech sleeve and not venture into our mouth.  I have been lucky and for the past 30 years I have had the same dentist – a family friend.  I would walk in and get a hug we would catch up a bit  on families and then get down to the dentsitry business.  It was a very satisfactory arrangement but like all good things these must eventually end and at 70 years my dentist retired. Well earned.  So to find someone new.  I chose someone close I could walk up to the surgery it seemed an ideal arrangement.   So I made the appointment for a six monthly check my first with the new person and walked to the surgery.  I filled in a form detailing my health and circling that I did not want my teeth whitened or any other cosmetic activities in the oral area.

Out came the young male dentist.  “In here Rae” he said.  So no greeting ( I didn’t expect a hug) no introduction of himself to me but I, an obedient woman, trotted in behind him to the treatment room.  I had no sooner settled into the reclining chair when he had me whisked out into another room to have some photographs taken of my mouth.  A procedure I hadn’t experienced before and was not really aware of what he exactly wanted he did not explain.  Back in the room with the recliner and there is my mouth in glorious black and white on a computer screen.  I said “Well isn’t that interesting.”  He said “You have a hole in your tooth did you know that?”   Well I didn’t that was the reason I was there – for him to tell me those things. “When did you see your last dentist? Did you have an xray?” His next barrage of  questions. “About 6 months ago.” I replied.  ” I can’t remember if I had an xray but it should be in my notes which were sent to you.”  I am starting to be a bit antsy with this bloke. “I don’t have any notes.” he says. “Did they email them to me?” 

“I have really no idea.” I am getting even a bit more irritated – I am the client why suddenly does it seem many things are my fault?  He leaves me in the recliner and goes out to the receptionist demanding the notes.  There is a flurry and a flutter and he comes back with them.  At last he takes up one of those little poker things dentists use to pick at your teeth and the tiny angled mirror and starts to poke around in my mouth.  I understand this procedure.  Then he says “You have a lot of tarter build up on the left side of your mouth don’t you clean that side properly?” 

What? Now I am being told that I don’t clean my teeth properly.  I sit up in the recliner remove the bibby things from around my neck and say:  “I am not happy with what is happening here I think you need to look after first time patients better than this.  I am leaving now and I will pay for what you have done today but that is the end I will not be back.”

A shocked silence and I walked out.  I see the receptionist.  By this time I am in a towering temper. 

“That man needs some lessons on how to deal with new patients I will not be back I would like my records and I will pay for the work done today.”  She looks a bit stunned and scurried off to talk to the dentist.  Low noises from the surgery she scuttles back and tells me it will cost $150.00  pretty pricey I thought for about 10 minutes work but I pay and I get out of there and I hardly remember walking home I am still enraged.

Next day my husband calls into the dentist to pick up our records – he too was going to be a patient for this dental practice. 

“Oh I didn’t know you were going to remove your records too.” The receptionist says.  My husband smiles and waits for the documents.

Because of poor people skills this dentist lost two patients in the space of 24hours.  He must have a wealthy practice to afford that loss.  All he needed was to be polite, to greet me, to explain procedures and treat me as a human being.  Very easy I would have though.

There are many terms which have become cliche in recent times but the one that irritates me at the moment is ‘moving on’.  Politicians who are not renown for their originality use it a lot – we have suffered from the floods, fire, locusts, frogs and now we have to move on.  In the devastating floods in Queensland over and over I would hear those words ‘we have to  move on’.  But I want to know is where to?

A friend grieving for her lost son who has now been gone for 4 years was told she should ‘move on’.  I have never had the misfortune to lose my son so I cannot quantify the grief that it brings but I would think the last thing that you can imagine is moving somewhere. What is wrong with staying right where we are?  I realise that the term has come about because we are supposed to be able to pick ourselves up out of adversity and continue living our lives and to say that is not a ‘sound bite’.  But my plea is that we don’t start expecting people to move when they are surveying a wreckage of their life brought on by whatever mischievous gods there are in the universe.

It seems to me that when I am about to entertain or leave the country equipment in my home either ceases to operate or malfunctions usually in the form of puddling water.

A few years ago when we were about to leave for two months overseas travel the day before we left, a Sunday, the washing machine which had been functioning perfectly did not go.  It would have been perfectly alright to leave the machine and deal with it on our return except – we were have a houseminder to stay in the house while we were away and I was pretty sure she would want to use the laundry.  I was in Farmers store in the time it takes to say ‘rinse’ .  The salesman keen to expound the beauties of the various machines was cut in full throat when I said “I will have that one” pointing and can you deliver it before 11 a.m. tomorrow.  He gulped back his spiel and then set about making the arrangements.  It would be the swiftest sale he had ever made.

Now come forward to a night when we were about to have 6 people to dinner.  I came downstairs to find the whole of the hall flooded – the hot water cylinder had decided to show it needed more petting.  A plumber arrived and we had the carpets up and large gas dryers burning away before the guests arrived.  At least the floor was dry.

Today a Thursday we are arranging to have 14 people to dinner on Saturday night.  Drinks and nibbles will be served outside under cover with steps down into the garden and then the idea is that we will all go back upstairs for dinner.  The garden is weeded the paths are swept, but seeping out from under the cupboard at the end of the patio where we plan to have drinks is an ominous puddle.  I opened the cupboard on a stack of old canvas chairs and a pile of leaves and a very sodden looking trap which comes from the kitchen.

A plumber is called and it is fixed $184.00 later.  Now the irony of this is that for a few weeks now we have eschewed the dishwasher.  There are only two of us here most of the time lets just do the dishes by hand – so says my significant other it will save on our water rates .  Part of the problem with the kitchen trap has been that it hasn’t been getting enough rush of water through – which is what happened with the dishwasher action.

This afternoon I loaded the lunch dishes into the dishwasher – we haven’t saved any money and I’m sick of drying dishes.