The moment Amy stepped into the dental surgery, disaster loomed on the horizon. Initially, unsettling loud pops echoed, sending shivers down her spine. Then, an unexpected rendition of the birthday song filled the air, soon followed by a barrage of inquiries. Questions like, "What's your plan now that you've hit thirty?" and "Is there a ring in your future?" bombarded her, leaving her bewildered. A ring? Who on earth would consider placing a ring on her finger? She hadn't even been on a single date, let alone met someone worthy of such a commitment. Were they confusing her with a supermodel, flaunting a size-two figure?
After escaping the clucking dental assistants, Amy made her way to the reception desk. Nancy, the receptionist, greeted her with curiosity. "Why the long face today, Amy? Wasn't it your birthday this weekend? Did you receive a lot of gifts?" Amy forced a smile. "Yes, quite a few."
"Your patients left some for you too," Nancy gestured towards the staff table, where a collection of wrapped presents, from flowers to chocolate hearts, awaited her. Amy sighed. "Again?" Nancy inquired, "Have you found a man yet?" Amy's response was glum. "No." Nancy playfully suggested, "Well, you could always choose from your patients."
Amy objected, "No way. They're my patients, Nancy. You know the policy about not dating patients while they're under your care." Nancy persisted, "You could date him and then let him switch practices." Amy chuckled. "I'm afraid my love for money outweighs my desire for romance. I wouldn't want him to change practices—I might lose all the revenue from his gum treatments."
Nancy grinned. "Happy thirtieth birthday, Amy. Here's to the next decade being even wiser." Amy thanked her, smiling. "Do I feel wiser, you ask? Well, I'm experienced in the ways of business and money, but when it comes to matters of the heart... let's just say I'm as rusty as a box of nails left out in the rain."
Nancy advised, "You need to get out more." Amy slyly responded, "Oh, but I did." "Before turning thirty?" Nancy inquired. Amy nodded, as if harboring a secret. "Yes." Curiosity piqued, Nancy probed further, "What happened?" Amy admitted with a frown, "It was a disaster." Nancy gasped in horror. "A disaster? How so?"
Amy responded playfully, "Oh, I won't spill the beans. I'll leave you to ponder that one. Now, what's on today's agenda?" She swiftly changed the subject, preferring not to dwell on the embarrassing incident of spilling that drink on the man's face and shirt. Though, she couldn't help but admire the baby-blue shirt he wore. Her days as a sales assistant in the men's wear department at Farmers had given her an eye for quality, and she recognized the expensive material.
Nancy teased her, "Amy, you little tease. I'll find out eventually from one of your friends, just you wait." Amy winked mischievously, replying, "Aye, aye, you might." If Nancy intended to uncover the events following the embarrassing episode, even her close friends Helen and Laura wouldn't have the answers. After the mishap, she had hurried to the restroom and remained there until she texted her friends to come to her rescue. Quite the way to spend her special day. Leaning against the wall between the sinks and the paper towel dispenser, she vowed never to touch alcohol again.
Amy pressed the issue, asking once more, "So, what's on the schedule today?" Nancy shared, "Today's schedule is jam-packed as usual. Patients adore you." Amy replied with gratitude, "Well, it's always nice to hear that."
Nancy continued, "At 9:00, Mrs. Jessica is coming for a suture removal from the crown lengthening procedure you performed last week. At 9:15 a.m., Mr. Thomas has an implant consultation. I've allocated forty-five minutes, just in case you want to do the advanced periodontal charting and such. Then, Miss Brawn has a gum graft consultation at 10:00 a.m. She mentioned being unhappy about her exposed roots. From what I gather, it seems she vigorously brushes her teeth with a firm toothbrush."
Nancy, initially unfamiliar with dental terminology, had made it her mission to learn every term used by the dental team. She diligently translated dental jargon into layman's terms. As the boss and specialist of the practice, Amy's role included correcting Nancy if she made any mistakes.
Amy added her expertise, "That's why many patients with gum recession tend to consider a gingival graft."
Nancy reassured her, "I scheduled her for forty-five minutes so you can have a proper discussion with her. You'll get a break at 10:45. Then, at 11:00, Mrs. Dennis is coming in for her deep scaling. She mentioned she's allergic to adrenaline local anesthetic, so I asked Sandra to stock up on some Citanest cartridges for you. You know how particular she is."
Amy groaned and rested her head on the reception countertop. Just hearing Mrs. Janet Dennis's name gave her a headache. Mrs. Dennis, despite her name, wasn't tall or slender; in Amy's mind, she'd rename her Mrs. Mark due to her round shape. Mrs. Dennis was also known for her chattiness, covering various topics. Amy fervently hoped today's conversation wouldn't revolve around husbands and babies; she wasn't in the mood for it. Husbands + babies + over thirty equaled a sensitive combination for Amy.
Nancy quipped, "You could always quiet her down with a suction tool or, better yet, give her a lesson in talking less." Amy chuckled, "As tempting as that sounds, we can't resort to drowning our patients, can we? I might lose my practicing certificate." Nancy agreed, addressing her as "Dr. Amy Maria Douglas."
Amy pondered, "But tell me, Nancy, why do all my patients' names start with B today?" Nancy offered a whimsical response, "I have no idea. Perhaps it's fate." Amy mused, "Aye, aye, maybe fate. Maybe fate will lead me to my future husband too."
Upon entering her dental surgery, Amy's first instinct was to close her eyes and savor the invigorating, clean aroma that enveloped the room. It carried the unmistakable scent of sterile equipment and alcohol, a fragrance that persisted even after the diligent cleaning crew had done their work.
Amy had a fondness for arriving at the clinic during these early morning hours when everything exuded tranquility. The rhythmic ticking of the clock drew her attention, prompting a sigh. She had another thirty minutes to wait before Mrs. Jessica's scheduled stitch removal.
Just then, Sandra peeked into the room, her cheerful greeting breaking the silence. "Good morning, Amy." Amy returned the smile and replied, "Good morning, Sandra." Sandra was Amy's dental assistant, a remarkably young nineteen-year-old who had aspired to become a dental assistant since she was seventeen. Now, her dream had become a reality.
Amy couldn't help but think, "Good for her," appreciating Sandra's early clarity about her life goals. Sandra inquired, "Has Nancy briefed you on today's schedule yet?" Amy focused on her computer screen, where Mrs. Jessica's file appeared. She began perusing it and said, "Only for the morning." Sandra offered, "Shall I fetch some Savacol for Mrs. Jessica? She might be running low."
"Yes, thank you," Amy replied without taking her eyes off the screen. "Oh, and bring me the interdental brushes too. I might need them for Mrs. Dennis. We need to ensure she's cleaning between her teeth." Sandra nodded and headed to the storeroom to gather the necessary supplies.
The day unfolded uneventfully, with time progressing at a sluggish pace. Soon, it was Mrs. Janet Dennis's turn for her appointment. The topic of conversation for the day revolved around women over thirty without families—a subject Amy had hoped to avoid.
"So, you know, my friend, she's thirty-six and no sign of a baby on the horizon," Mrs. Dennis began. Amy feigned interest, a part of her job she found challenging. "Really? Why is that?"
"Too old," Mrs. Dennis replied. "If you want children, you should have them before you turn thirty-five." Amy inquired, "Is that a well-established fact?" She needed to conduct some research before accepting Mrs. Dennis's words as gospel.
"Absolutely," Mrs. Dennis affirmed.
Against her better judgment, this conversation began to unsettle Amy. While she knew she desired a family, the notion that she might be running out of time weighed heavily on her. She had already crossed the threshold of thirty, and the clock seemed to be ticking faster. What if what Mrs. Dennis had said held some truth? Could she really find a suitable sperm donor and embark on motherhood on her own?
As these thoughts swirled in her mind, an idea struck her—a perfect solution to her predicament. Amy couldn't wait to return home and call Helen and Laura. Enough of this conversation, Amy thought to herself. It was time to make good use of that suction tool.