A Mercy Clinic: A Short Story

The sound of my shaking legs pounding in harmony with my racing heart quickly overshadowed the soothing jazz radiating throughout the dentist office. As my back reclined uncomfortably in the chair, the glaring light illuminated the nervous sweat sweeping across my face. My anxiety amplified as my eyes fluttered around the room to see shiny tools and surgical masks peering down at me. My teeth were securely locked together under my sealed lips as constant laughter and awkward stares replayed in my mind. Unlike most people, my smile was pamphlet perfect if the gaping holes beside my front teeth were photoshopped out of the picture. Failed attempts to pry open my mouth motivated my dentist to explore a different approach. He stripped away his surgical mask and his sterile demeanor to explain his own memories of living with an unorthodox smile. Hearing his comparable

Mission of Mercy Clinic, I noticed the lively arena stripped of its personality and transformed into a colorless, sterile environment. Foam fingers and cheering crowds were replaced with mouthless faces marching to the beat of whirling tools and slushing mouths spawning an allusion of a robotic, mechanistic assembly line. These sights and sounds reemerged my phobia of dentists; moreover, in the sea of white coats, I noticed an elderly man with utter fear painted his body. When I approached him, he anxiously shifted in the chair and rapidly grasped for something secure, my hand. The dentist also acknowledged his fear and removed his external barriers to reveal a friendly, smiling face. He imitated friendly conversation with the patient to disguise the intimidating environment and to coax him into relaxation and build confidence in the procedure; consequentially, the elderly man’s tense grip slowly softened in my grasp. Again, I witnessed how a sincere, personal exchange of words can generate a sense of assurance and tranquility within the