Draft

"Please sign this."

They never handed him a consent form before.

"It's not a big deal. It's just to make sure you consented to have your cavity filled." The assistant said it nonchalantly. Her white uniform was tight and contrasted with her dark brown skin. Her eye brows were bushy and made her seem more trustworthy.

"I've never had to sign one before," he said as he signed it. He didn't bother to read lines above the signature.

"It's a new protocol and it's just to be safe."

She tells him to sit in the dental chair and prepares him by placing a dental bib on him. He stares at the equipment she lays out on the metal stand. His hands tighten briefly on the arms of the chair as he looks to the other side of the chair where the cup of water is and the sink is for the spit, blood, whatever else comes out. It wasn't so much the tools he was afraid of, but the shot that's needle was the length of half his hand.

"What's the shot for?"

"It's anesthesia. You're going to need it for the bigger cavity."

"Didn't realize it had gotten that bad."

"You should have come for a check up sooner. It's every six months Mr. Durmu."

"Gotcha. I'll try to remember that next time." He smiles at her assuredly.

The dentist finally enters with his folder in her arms. Her hair is falling in her face and she's flushed as if she ran from her house to the office. The buttons on her white coat are mismatched and her hands are moving faster than she can process. They move a little too fast. She's taller than the assistant and much prettier with mocha skin. The dentist speaks to the assistant in a different dialect, ignoring that he moves his head in their direction every time they speak.

"How are you, Mr. Durmu?"

"Good. Good. How are you?"

"Good. Now, you can't eat for the next 3 to 4 hours after this, okay? Let's get started."

He mutters his agreement. He leans back and the dental chair rises with the light blaring in his face. The dentist and her assistant continue to speak in their language. She tells him to open his mouth. He does. Open wider. He does. Her hand twitches. They continue to chit chat, about how the 7 train isn't running properly this morning. That was the only thing he understood, the 7 train was said in English. The dentist grabs the drill while showing surprise at the sudden news. Open wider. He does. She drills. The dentist's wisps of hair almost look like branches, limp and inviting. She drills. The tooth stings now. She drills and is probably telling the assistant how tired she is and how late she slept last night.

A metal tang fills his mouth. He's in excruciating pain now. He clenches his eyes and his hands are sweating, clenching the arms of the chair. He starts to gurgle and squirm.

"Oh shit. Shit." She drops the drill.

He spits and dribbles blood. His tongue dips into the gap in his tooth and his gum. The assistant runs to get gauze.

"Rinse with water and spit it out!" The dentist maneuvers through the cabinets to find something to stop the bleeding.

He rinses his mouth with water, it burns. He chokes. He spits out red fluid with shreds of gum. He wipes at the spittle clinging to his lips with the bib. But when he looks down at it, he's somehow enthralled by the splatter of blood and spit. When he finally raises his eyes, he spots the needle of the anesthesia, unused and polished. He should've read the consent form after all.