She looks down at the form I filled out. “You have a psychiatric condition?”, she asks.
“Yes.” I confirm.
That’s not enough information. “Anxiety? Depression?”, she probes.
“Yes.” I say again.
It’s only been thirty seconds and already I am pissing her off.
I’m seeing her about my tooth because my dentist referred me to her. She asks me lots of questions about the tooth and I try to answer them as best as I can. Then she does an examination and gets me to move my teeth around in all sorts of ways.
“Just relax your jaw.”, she instructs. I can’t relax. I hate the feeling of the sharp metal device which she uses to poke around my tooth. I keep apologising to her because I feel like I am being a difficult patient. She ignores my apologies and keeps instructing me to open and close my mouth.
We go back to sitting at her desk to discuss my poor tooth and I start getting really confused because what she is saying doesn’t really correlate with what my dentist said and I trust my dentist completely. She gets annoyed when I bring up what my dentist has told me and gets even more annoyed when I mention something new about my teeth. “That’s what I was trying to get you to show me before!”, she snaps. She grabs another pair of gloves and tells me to go back to the chair so she can have another look.
I feel like I am wasting her time. I feel like I am wasting my own time too. I apologise to her again and she says nothing.