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He was almost getting used to it.
The prosthodontic genius from Galactic U will now demonstrate how to handle a problem case," the
chief dental goblin announced grandly. "Pay close attention so you can learn how stupid you are."
Almost every grotesque little face mirrored the chief's resentment. No doubt of it: University prestige
was on the line. If he failed here, there would be severe repercussions. He could, in fact, be eased out of
the very position he was in training for: the Directorship of the School of Prosthodontics. The goblins
were striking not at him, but at his career a blow the Jann could not foil. All because of one
intemperate remark.
The first patient mounted the stage: a quadrupedal and vaguely equine creature with colourful bird-like
plumage.
Miss Anemone intercepted it. "May I have your name and planet of origin, please?"
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"Horsefeathers of Clovenhoof," the creature neighed, showing tremendous yellow teeth.
"Please describe your complaint."
"My teeth hurt."
There was a murmur of nasty appreciation from the audience. Hobgoblin's finest practitioners were
present, and Dillingham was sure that every one of them had had this problem: the unspecific response.
Miss Anemone, of course, would not let it stand at that. She would question the patient gently but
firmly, clarifying and isolating his symptoms until she had a fair notion of his real complaint. That was a
major part of the duties of a galactic dental assistant: to get at the facts before the patient saw the dentist,
thereby promoting office efficiency.
"Dr. Dillingham will see you now," she said.
There was a chorus of chuckles and a few hoots from the audience. They knew she had goofed. Well, he
could not afford to correct her now. That would only make it worse. He would have to question the
patient himself and make sure never to get into such a situation again with an unfamiliar assistant.
It probably was not her fault. Some dentists preferred to handle virtually everything themselves, and
some assistants were trained to honour this. Probably she would have questioned the patient further had
he asked her to do so. But Dillingham was far too busy to break in an assistant in all the little ways that
were sure to turn up. Miss Anemone would not do.
Horsefeathers ambled over and bestrode the dental chair, opening his long large mouth. His breath was
not sweet.
"Can you localize the area of sensitivity?" Dillingham inquired, beginning a routine check with the
probe.
"Huh?"
"Where does it hurt?"
"They all hurt. It changes," Horsefeathers said.
Another appreciative goblin chuckle. Dillingham began to fear that they had thrown him a chronic
complainer one who would object no matter how well off his teeth were.
"I see you have had extensive prosthodontic restoration," Dillingham observed. Indeed, the mouth was a
mass of gold.
"Huh?"
"Lot of work done on you."
"Yes. All right here on Hobgoblin. Lousy job."
Silence from the gallery. Dillingham suppressed a smile. "On the contrary. My visual inspection
suggests that this work is quite competent. However, I shall take X-rays to be sure there is no underlying
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problem," He tapped a tooth, finding it firm. "Miss Anemone "
Another evil gallery chuckle. He looked up.
Miss Anemone was gone. A man-sized centipede occupied her desk. "I am Miss Thousandlegs, your
new assistant. Miss Anemone was called away,"
In the middle of a demonstration? This was getting too efficient! How had Miss Tarantula known?
He also noted with surprise that the Jann was gone. The booth was empty and there was no familiar glint
of robot metal. But he was sure the huge entity was in the vicinity and would be, for the next forty-
nine-plus years.
All he said was: "Please take a full set of X-rays on this patient."
Miss Thousandlegs rippled over, elevated her forepart, and positioned machine and plates. She was good
at it, he had to admit, considering that she had probably only had experience with such equipment in
some class on Antique Apparatus. In a moment she had the pictures.
He almost gaped. "Root canal therapy on every tooth!"
They were pretty far gone," Horsefeathers admitted.
They must have been. Root canal therapy was only called for when the central nerve of the tooth became
contaminated. Then this nerve had to be removed, and silver or gutta-percha or some galactic equivalent
substituted, so that no further decay could occur. It was an expensive process, but it generally saved the
tooth. The tooth was insensitive thereafter, of course. Without its nerve it could not feel heat or cold,
pressure or pain.
"I see no evidence of decay," Dillingham said, inspecting the X-rays carefully.
"They still hurt," Horsefeathers said stoutly.
With no nerves at all, they hurt. Dillingham controlled a sigh, knowing that the dentists of Hobgoblin
were enjoying this hugely.
"Do you wish me to check the occlusion?" Miss Thousand-legs inquired.
Bless her! "By all means."
She brought a wax plate and had the patient bite down on it so that his teeth imprinted the material in a
horseshoe pattern, above and below. She studied this. "Serious malocclusion, Doctor," she announced.
Dillingham could tell by the silence around him that the goblins had forgotten to make this test just as
he himself had almost forgotten, in his preoccupation with the impression he was making. Miss
Thousandlegs had saved him. It was beginning to look as though he had found his assistant.
"This will not hurt," he told Horsefeathers as he prepared his rotary unit. "In fact, I will not have to use
any anaesthetic. I am merely going to grind down some of the surfaces a little. To adjust the occlusion,
so that your teeth will meet properly when you bite."
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"But it doesn't hurt where I bite! It hurts deep inside!"
"This is typical," Dillingham assured him. "You see, when the occlusion is imperfect when your teeth
meet unevenly unnatural stress is placed on certain sections. Portions that are too high are driven back
or shoved sideways. While this effect is too small for you to notice, ordinarily, it continues to irritate the
periodontal membrane the lining surrounding the roots of your teeth crushing and bruising it. This [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]