I Rehearsed the Phone Call Eleven Times

Eleven drafts

By draft eleven, my dental appointment request included two moves, a job change and an apology to someone I hadn't met. I'm an editor. People pay me to cut this stuff.

Six years since my last visit. That was the bit I couldn't say without adding a defence. My coffee had gone cold. I'd wiped the same crumb off the table three times.

Nell rang. "Are you booking an appointment or writing the dentist a memoir?" I crossed out the paragraph about my old commute.

One useful sentence

I wrote: "I haven't been in several years, and I'm nervous. What would the first appointment involve?" Underneath: how long, what it costs, whether a cleaning is included. Finally, questions somebody could answer.

The Ontario Dental Association suggests mentioning anxiety when booking and on arrival, asking questions, and raising a hand when you need a break. I copied those down. Being surprised was the part I hated most.^[1]

I put my headphones and medication list beside the notebook. Then I nearly postponed the whole thing so I could become better at flossing first. Honestly, Mara.

Actually pressing call

I pressed call before I could open draft twelve. Read the short sentence. Asked my questions. Wrote down an appointment time. My hand was shaking enough to turn the last digit into a small potato.

Nell texted: "Well?" I sent her a photo of the notebook. She sent back six exclamation marks. I reheated the coffee.

Then I went looking for the floss. It was still in its wrapper. Of course it was.