One day I turned up at Mater Christi in some old working gear for a quick visit to Dad as I was picking up some more building supplies for whatever was the latest project at Gleniffer. As I arrived I was informed by the Care Staff that Dad had a problem tooth and could I get it sorted out today if possible.
So I found a local dentist and made the mandatory appointment and away we went in the old Tojo Dual Cab. All very straight forward, except we weren't really dressed for a visit to a professional. But it was a sort of an emergency .
We arrive at the dentist, flashed the Gold Card and we were in.
Dad was quite relaxed as I explained the problem to the dentist and a decision was made to remove the offending stub. Not that Dad had many teeth left.
It was interesting as Dad got older he became more and more comfortable with people making decisions for him. He would simply sit, observe and occasionally make a wry comment or give a knowing look. Life had reached a point where he did not have any worries and he simply enjoyed life moment to moment. So others deciding to pull a tooth out was ‘whatever’.
But the one trait he never lost was the respect he had for all people. To Dad we were all the same, being uppity was not something Dad accepted and he had some interesting ways of making his point. There were no stations in life for Dad. We were all on the same station catching the same train.
But back to the dentist and removing the offending tooth.
Obviously the top and bottom plates had to come out to allow the dentist to do his stuff so around this time I left. Watching a tooth extraction is not something I am overly attracted to. As a result I left as the false teeth were being removed and stored away and hence I had no idea who had them. I sure as hell didn't have them in my pocket.
Outside in the waiting room I took a seat and waited.
Very soon Dad appears all smiles (toothless smiles) and the dentist advised me the offending tooth was out and we could go.
Now just prior to Dad appearing with his toothless grin, a mature, well dressed but somewhat uppity lady had walked in and taken a seat in the waiting room. Also at this time the receptionist called me over to complete the paperwork so I indicated to Dad to take a seat in the waiting room.
This somewhat uppity lady was obviously uncomfortable with Dads toothless smile and I could detect from her demeanor that she was in fact uncomfortable with being in the same space as a toothless and grinning old man and his working class son. We were of another class and were offending her.
Dad picked up on this feeling and just for a laugh in a near empty waiting room he decided that he should sit right next to her. The lady wriggled in her seat and did her best to turn her back on him, tried not look too obvious and buried her head in a magazine. Just the reaction I suspect Dad was looking for. But she didn't know that Dad had plans for a bit more fun. It wasn't going to stop there.
Meanwhile back at the desk I was busy completing the paperwork and I heard Dad calling ‘Terry ……. Terry……..”. I looked around at Dad and he was pointing to his open mouth and indicating that he was missing his upper plate. Not satisfied with showing me he gave the lady next to him a bit of a nudge to make sure that she also new what was going on. He was missing his false teeth. The look was priceless.
She was getting more and more uncomfortable and buried her head further and further into the magazine she was reading and squirmed further around in her seat.
I acknowledged Dad, saying OK I will sort it out in a minute and went back to the paper work. I realised that his teeth must still be in the dentist's room and I would go and get them as soon as I finished with the receptionist.
A minute or so later while still doing paperwork again I heard ‘Terry…….. Terry………”. This time I looked around to see Dad pulling his top plate out of his shirt pocket. He again made sure that the increasingly uncomfortable lady knew that it was OK and she could stop looking for his teeth as he had found them. Dad was happy and smiling, another priceless memory as he waved his top set of choppers like a six year old with his first flag.
He plucked some fluff of his teeth and gently slipped them into place. Obviously they didn't go in to place exactly right so he pushed them in and out with his tongue and readjusted them several times. Making sure all the time that the lady was aware of what was going on. It was a visual lesson on how to prepare and place your false teeth.
I wish I could adequately describe the look on the ladies face. Words such as shock, horror, disgust, come to mind but I really think that she simply wished the floor would open and swallow her up or at least make the pair of us disappear.
As we drove back in the old Tojo Dad quietly sat and looked very content as the world went past and occasionally he moved his teeth around with a soothing clicking sound and I got the feeling he was well satisfied with his mornings work.